


The Law and Order Fairies

by asparagusmama



Series: Very silly crossovers for babyklingon during hospital tests! [2]
Category: Inspector Morse & Related Fandoms, Inspector Morse (TV), Inspector Morse - Colin Dexter, Lewis (TV), Rainbow Magic – Daisy Meadows
Genre: Fairy versions of all Lewis characters, children's storybook fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-22
Updated: 2015-12-01
Packaged: 2018-02-22 05:07:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 25,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2495579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asparagusmama/pseuds/asparagusmama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is a boring, rainy half term when Jean the superintendent fairy arrives with a mission for Kirsty and Rachel to help her find her police station and officers, stolen by the wicked Jack Frost and his goblin henchmen....</p><p>(Somewhere in the faerie realm Jean Innocent and her entire station and personnel have magical doubles, responsible for keeping the balance of law and order and justice in our universe.)</p><p>A cross over with a popular UK children’s book series, also published in Australia, New Zealand, the US and Japan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Jean, the superintendent fairy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [flowerpotgirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowerpotgirl/gifts), [owlbsurfinbird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlbsurfinbird/gifts), [Sys](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sys/gifts), [babyklingon](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=babyklingon), [ComplicatedLight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ComplicatedLight/gifts).



> This is dedicated to ComplicatedLight, flowerpotgirl, owlbsurfinbird and sys for encouraging me not to stress and find time to write any old thing during the stressful RL and worsening of my health I find myself in.
> 
> See, I don't just do angst and complex case fics :)
> 
> For those who are waiting, I am sorry about the lack of Poisoned Minds. I do know have almost 3 chapters completed in long hand and will try to type up when/if I ger any respite. Sorry again for the long wait. RL is a bit hard at the moment.

Mrs Tate sighed and turned from the kitchen windows to look at the girls.

“Well, it looks like another rainy day. I’m sorry Rachel, you’ve not been able to do much this time.”

Rachel was staying with her friend Kirsty for the whole of half term. They had met a couple of years before, both on holiday on the tiny Rainspell Island, and somehow they had become involved in a whole series of magical adventure.

“I do declare, it’s brightening up!” said Mrs Tate. “Look, a rainbow.”

Both girls rushed to the window, remembering that first adventure, rescuing the seven rainbow fairies from Jack Frost. Since then they had had countless adventures.

“It does say on the weather forecast that the rest of the week will be sunny,” promised Mrs Tate, standing behind the girls. “But as for now, how about tidying away that jigsaw and getting out of my hair – I promised your uncle I would bake lots of cakes for the police fete. Now shoo!”

Kirsty’s uncle, whom she seldom saw, was a detective sergeant.

*

“What do we do now!” huffed Rachel, flopping down on the camp bed next to Kirsty’s. They had done all the puzzles and played all the board games in the house over the previous three days. Mr and Mrs Tate were old-fashioned parents and restricted TV, computer, and Nintendo time. Normally this had never bothered Kirsty; there was always plenty to do, not to mention all the adventures and battles with Jack Frost and his wicked goblins.

“I don’t know!” wailed Kirsty.

“Well, you could try and help me find my officers,” squeaked a tiny stern voice.

Rachel and Kirsty looked at each other and smiled before looking in the direction of the voice, which was in front of the mirror on the dressing table.

Standing on the table was a tiny fairy. She looked older than most of the fairies the girls had met and worked with. She had the same grace and dignity as Queen Titania herself, dressed in a fitted purple shift dress with a lilac cardigan. Her wings, too, were purple, tipped with sparkling silver. She had high-heeled purple court shoes and her dark hair was piled on her head.

Kirsty and Rachel knelt down in front of her.

“Who are you?” Rachel asked politely. This fairy made her feel nervous and a little in awe, the way King Oberon and Queen Titania did, although their majesties were always kind, gracious, and grateful for their assistance.

“I am Jean, Chief Superintendent of all their majesties’ police force in the Fairy Kingdom. And Jack Frost has stolen my police station. I need your help to help me find all my officers, including my detectives and my pathologist. Especially my pathologist,” Jean said sternly, gazing at the girls levelly. “She’s my best friend.”

The girls looked at one another. Although they only saw each other holidays and most weekends, they couldn’t imagine not knowing where the other was, whether they were safe or not. Poor Jean.

“But first,” went on Jean, raising her wand and showering the girls with purple fairy dust, “you must come to Fairyland to meet the King and Queen,” she added as the girls felt the familiar sensation of shrinking and the slight itch in their shoulder blades as they grew wings.

“We’re not really dressed for visiting,” Rachel apologised, looking sadly down at her pink pony pyjamas. It being still early morning, and feeling general sloth due to the persistent rain, neither girl had dressed yet.

“And I thought your pink trousers and top quite charming,” said Jean nicely. “And your purple dress,” she added to Kirsty, who was wearing a pale lavender nightie with a deep purple love heart on her chest. “Come on girls, with me!” And with that Jean took to the air so the girls had no option to follow suit.

*

The girls curtsied as gracefully as they could in front of the King and Queen of all the fairies.

“Thank you girls, for once again agreeing to be our agents in the human world,” the fairy King said graciously.

“It is so important for your world, as much, if not more, that we find these fairies quickly,” added Queen Titania. 

“Your majesty,” asked Rachel shyly. “I didn’t think that fairies would break the law.”

“Believe me Rachel, fairies can be very naughty indeed. And there are other magical people, as you know, who are far worst,” Queen Titania replied.

“But it goes much further,” went on her husband, King Oberon. “As you know from your previous times, fairies and the fairy realm have influence and effect over nature, beauty, art, music, and the weather patterns of your world. Just so with Law and Order and Justice. While our little police station and its officers have little to do, they hold a balance for humanity. With the station and Jean’s people missing, the balance of power will shift: criminals will be more successful and get away with bad things more often; more humans will chose not to be police officers or stop being them; many more officers will get sick and be unable to work; some may even chose to help the bad people for money –”

“Take bribes!” said Kirsty, outraged. She could never imagine her Uncle doing such a thing.

“Indeed,” said King Oberon. “We must find the station and all its occupants as quickly as possible. And Jean, we have some sad news to tell you.”

Jean looked at the King and Queen, standing almost to attention, her hands folded behind her back under her wings.

“Three wise, old, fairies have disappeared from the fairy retirement gardens,” King Oberon went on gently, but the girls could tell he was shocked and angry from his face.

Rachel and Kirsty gasped. They didn’t know there was such a thing existed; they knew fairies lived for hundreds, even thousands, of years, so these retired fairies must be very old indeed.

“I see,” said Jean. “Is it connected to this case?”

Kirsty and Rachel thought that Jean sounded exactly like a detective from a television show.

“I’m certain it is,” said Oberon. “The missing fairies are Max, Morse, and... and...”

“And your father,” Queen Titania completed for him gently.

Jean hid her shock well, like a proper professional police officer. Rachel and Kirsty thought she must be very brave. Already she was worried about all her officers and her best friend. “Then it certainly is connected your majesties. We must hope that the esteemed retired gentlemen fairies are somehow in my station with my officers.”

“Max was the pathologist fairy, Morse the Chief Detective Inspector fairy and dear, dear Strange, Jean’s father, was Chief Superintendent of all the fairies before her,” Titania explained to the girls.

“Although,” smiled Oberon, it was a fond, sad smile, but a smile, “I always remember he wanted to be a Biscuit Fairy. Why must all the sweet fairies be girls, he asked me when we were at fairy school together. I was a prince then, when my mother Mab ruled.”

*

“Where do we start?” asked Kirsty, later that day. They were back to normal human size, and had built a tent in her room between the beds and were sat inside it having a picnic tea. The rain outside had become heavier, and at one point it had thundered, and then hailed.

“If law is not properly observed everything falls out of balance,” Jean said darkly at the hail bouncing off Kirsty’s trampoline in the garden.

“A whole police station - even a fairy sized one – is a very big thing to hide, isn’t it?” Rachel said, thinking.

“Everything must connect and balance in some way,” Jean said cryptically, “even Jack Frost can’t break some magical rules.”

“Tomorrow we are going to the city!” Kirsty suddenly remembered. “To my uncle’s police fete!”

“It’s worth a try,” said Rachel, doubtfully.

“It’s worth more than a try,” said Jean firmly. “It sounds like a very positive lead. Well girls, I will bid you adieu and see you in the morning.” Jean had been perched on the edge of Rachel’s plate, daintily nibbling the corner or her sandwich and the smallest piece of chocolate cake, sipping tea from a thimble. “Thank you for tea,” she added politely, standing and brushing invisible cake and breadcrumbs from her purple satin shift dress, before spreading her silver tipped purple wings and launching into the air and flying away.


	2. The Missing Police Station

The following morning it was still raining hard. Kirsty and Rachel helped Kirsty’s mother make runs to and from the kitchen carrying the boxes of brownies, fairy cakes, rice krispie cakes, and cookies, plus the three each of Victoria sponges and fruit cakes her mother had baked the day before for the cake stall at the Police Fete.

Jean had arrived earlier that morning and she flew above the girls heads, encouraging them to be quick so the cakes wouldn’t ruin. How Mrs. Tate did not notice her they could not imagine. They supposed it was magic.

 

*

It was still two hours before the fete was to open when they arrived. Auntie Val came rushing out of the hall to help with the cakes and once the girls had finished helping, Mrs Tate turned to them, distracted,

“There’s still so much to do. Can you girls amuse yourself while your auntie and I get set up?”

“Of course we can Mum,” Kirsty replied, grabbing her friend’s arm and rushing off. She had seen something moving in the shadows by a doorway.

“What?” whispered Rachel, as Kirsty pulled her to hide behind a stall, putting her fingers to her lips and pointing to the doorway.

“I thought I saw a goblin,” Kirsty whispered back.

The door, however, was marked private, so the girls dare not sneak inside with so many off duty policemen and women in the hall. Instead they wandered about and watched things being set up. There was a tombola on a stage, a hook a duck, a bookstall, Kirsty’s Mum and Auntie’s cake stall, a lucky dip, and many more.

Meanwhile, Jean had flown though the door and she found them at the bookstall. Both girls were flicking through a box of children’s books, while still keeping their eyes open for the goblin.

“I haven’t been able to find the goblin,” she said, landing on top of a pile of Doctor Who Annuals. “But I did find some rather large, bare footed, goblin sized footprints made of mud on the floor by the fire exit.”

“Which means they’re here!” Rachel said excitedly.

“Or at least one is,” Jean agreed.

“And probably your police station. This hall is next to the police station, after all!” Rachel went on.

“But how do we find it?” asked Kirsty.

“Have you seen all the stalls yet?" Jean asked.

“No, not quite, some are still being set up.”

“Well, I suggest you carry on looking while I fly around the room looking from on high, so we cover all angles. We’ll meet back here, in say, fifteen minutes. You girls separate. It will save time.”

*

Kirsty went one way to the stalls by the front doors of the hall and Rachel went the other, towards the doors through to other parts of the building and the fire exits. In one corner three trestle tables were being put together and covered with cloths before the three women began to lay out toys onto the tables. A flutter of the tablecloth caught Rachel’s eye so she went closer. She was sure she could see the large bare foot of a goblin under the table.

As she got closer Rachel gasped, as she saw the most detailed toy police station that could be imagined, built of four stories of what looked like the real sandstone of the city!

She rushed back to the agreed meeting place beside the bookstall.

*

Jean flew in a circle around the ‘toy’ police station while the girls looked at it. It sat on the windowsill behind the tables that were full of the usual bric-a-brac of second hand toys that fetes usually sold – broken plastic bits and pieces, scalped Barbies and baby dolls with squint eyes, a motley collection of stuffed toys and actions figures, games received at Christmas and played with once on Boxing Day.

“Amazing, isn’t it?” said a tall woman with blonde hair and a fashionable top over skinny jeans and heels. “We’re not sure who donated it, but surely it ought to be a raffle price and not just sold here. We could raise so much money, couldn’t we?”

“Um, yes,” said Kirsty, as Rachel went for a closer look.

“Please don’t touch. You shouldn’t really be in here yet. We’re still setting up. We open at two o’clock.”

“My Mum and Auntie are setting up the cake stall. They said we could look.”

The lady smiled. “Oh. I see.” She turned around to Rachel, who was now next to it. “Please don’t touch.”

“It’s so detailed. I wish I could buy it.”

“Come back at two dear. But it will be pricey, I’m afraid.”

The girls walked away slowly. They turned and watched as Jean tried to fly down to the stone stepped front door. As she did they watched the goblin emerge from under the table and try to grab her. She flew away too quickly to be snatched but every time she tried the same thing happened. She pointed to the bookstall so the girls went back there, dejected.

 

*

 

“We need to distract the goblin so that Jean can get into the station,” Rachel said.

“But how?” asked Kirsty, picking up a book about fairies that sat on a pile of picture books. “That lady is serious about guarding the station she thinks is a precious toy, she’s got to go first, hasn’t she?”

“What if it gets sold?” Rachel asked, eyes wide with fear.

“I doubt Jack Frost will want that, either,” Jean said, fluttering down and landing on the huge pile of Dr. Who annuals, sitting primly, crossed legged. She patted her hair and fiddled with her earrings before she spoke again, sounding annoyed. “And that tiresome naughty goblin will have to go. I can’t even get to my station to check if all my staff are accounted for and inside. As for the retired fairies, I can only hope...”

The girls remembered that’s Jean’s father and best friends were some of the Law and Order fairies that were missing. Kirsty gently touched the tiny fairy shoulder with her little finger.

“Don’t worry, we will figure something out. Rachel is very good at coming up with plans.”

“Her Majesties have high regard for you both. I know you have helped us many times before.”

“We will do our best,” Rachel said, “although we’ve not had to rescue anything so big before.”

“Jack Frost has never stolen anything so big before,” Jean said, “and it is a long time since he has been foolhardy enough to kidnap a fairy, let alone us! He is very wicked indeed!”

Just then Mrs Tate came up to the girls. “Oh, there you are girls. We are all going to break for lunch before we open. Come along.”

And the girls had no excuse not to follow Kirsty’s mother out of the main hall into a smaller room laid out as a cafe, with a hatch way to a small kitchen open, showing signs for cakes, tea, and coffee. Nobody was using it though, all the off duty police officers, their wives and husbands and the other volunteers were all sitting in groups unpacking home made packed lunches or taking shop bought sandwiches, wraps, and pies, out of carrier bags. Mrs Tate pointed to a table with Kirsty’s auntie and uncle, where her auntie was producing piles of sandwiches.

“I hope you girls are hungry,” she said with a smile.

“Mrs Tate,” Rachel said, taking a sandwich and a carton of juice, “would you mind if Kirsty and I went and sat over there, away from the grown-ups?”

“We must be so boring for you,” teased Kirsty’s auntie, while her mum nodded and gave the girls several sandwiches and another carton of juice to take with them.

Rachel led them to a table far from all the grown-up helpers and smaller children, right by the door. They could even see the fairy police station through the glass panels on the doors.

“Good thinking,” Jean said, fluttering above the girls’ heads. “We can try and get past the goblin while there are no adults.”

“Hopefully there is only one,” Rachel said.

“I think at least two, unfortunately,” Jean said, but she flew swiftly into the room as Kirsty opened the door. Checking no grown-ups were watching, they quickly followed her in.

Before the goblin on guard duty was aware of what was happening Jean had flown down to the station and stood at the door. The girls suspected he could be napping.

“Anyone inside?” Jean called.

“Ma’am?” a man’s voice called. A male fairy came to the door. He was grey haired, with a sharp nose and kind eyes, wearing a grey suit with a creamy-brown set of wings tipped with a dappled dark brown pattern.

“Hooper! Thank goodness. Is everybody accounted for?”

“Only Julie and Gurdip here Ma’am,” Hooper said, as two young, dark skinned, fairies flew out to join him on the steps. The brown-skinned boy fairy was in a white shirt and black trousers, looking a little scruffy, with brilliant blue wings that shimmered, even in the shade. He wore glasses. Kirsty and Rachel had never seen a fairy in glasses before. But Hooper and Gurdip were only their second and third male fairies they had ever seen. Julie was in what looked like a police uniform. She wore black leggings with a dark blue dress with epaulettes with little silver logos on her shoulders. Over that she wore a tiny little stab vest. Her wand was plain black and tucked into her utility belt under her stab vest, along with a truncheon and a set of tiny handcuffs. Her black hair was put neatly in a bun off her beautiful black face and her wings were pale pink rose at the bottom and gradually turned into a dark pink at the top, tipped with scarlet.

“Where is everybody else? Where’s Laura?”

“The goblins took Laura, Ma’am. Sorry. And Robbie and James, too. Alan tried to go for help when we first arrived, but we can’t get out. There are two goblins on guard at all times since we arrived in the human world. You need to watch out.”

“I will, don’t you worry. These are Kirsty and Rachel. They are here to help.”

“A privilege girls,” Hooper said. “I’ve heard of you and all the help you’ve given us.”

“Ma’am! Watch out!” Julie yelled, as a goblin tried to grab Jean. She flew at the goblin.

Rachel and Kirsty reacted quickly, Rachel pushing the goblin so he fell into a box of broken toys, while Kirsty picked up a plastic light saber and hit him on the head with it. Just then a second goblin emerged from the fire exit and ran towards them. The other goblin clambered out of the box and with a hiss, threw his arms over the station. Jean and Julie flew up to the ceiling to the lights while Kirsty and Rachel ran back into the dining room.

*

“What can we do now?” Kirsty asked, despairing, as they sat back down at the table with their lunches.

“We must think of something,” Rachel agreed.

“Yes we must, but first, Julie, tell me about Alan. He may have gone for help but he’s not made it back home to the Fairy Kingdom.”

“He left as soon as we arrived here. One of the goblins chased him while the other stood in front of the door. The back was pressed to the wall so we couldn’t sneak out that way.”

“He must be here. The goblins must have captured him or...”

“It’s the or we’ve all been worried about Ma’am.”

“What about where the other goblin came from?” asked Kirsty.

“Yes, you said you saw goblin footprints,” added Rachel.

“Yes, that is probably the best place to look first. But first, have you eaten, Julie?”

“Not much Ma’am. We’ve been rationing the food in the station.”

Instantly the girls broke a corner from eat of their sandwiches and gave it to the young police fairy. Julie grinned and stuffed the tiny corner in her mouth.

“Thank you,” she said around the crumbs in her mouth.

*

Jean decided, since they were to go though a door marked private the easiest thing was for the girls to be shrunk to fairy size. They all waited for the door to be opened and flew quickly inside before it could be shut.

It led into a long corridor, with many doors to offices and rooms.

“This could take forever!” Rachel said.

“We’ll start where I saw the footprints and work our way back,” Jean instructed.

“At least we know both goblins are in the hall,” Julie said.

“For now,” Jean said darkly.

*

It didn’t take long at all for the two fairies and the two girls to find Alan. He had been attacked by the goblin and knocked to the ground, where he had crawled behind a radiator. One wing was torn and his arm was broken. His wand, which was black and tipped with a silver star, was broken and looped through a belt loop of his jeans.

He was only the fourth male fairy the girls had every seen. He might have been handsome, Rachel decided, if he didn’t look so grey with pain. He was dressed in jeans and black boots, with a white top and black leather jacket. His hair was very dark and curled in an old-fashioned way. Both girls were very upset, they had never seen a fairy so hurt before. They couldn’t understand why Jean and Julie didn’t get out their wings and immediately fix him.

“He needs a proper healing fairy for that. Our magic can only do so much, something like that requires special magic only few fairies are born with and then lots and lots of training and learning,” explained Julie as Jean comforted Alan and made him a bandage for his arm out of a strip from her purple dress, which was now turned into a ragged hem-line mini, which didn’t look right on the elegant Jean, even if it looked more like a fairy dress from a book.

“We need to get Alan somewhere safe and then get him into the station as soon as possible,” Jean said, looking up from kneeling over Alan.

“I can’t fly!” Alan said, sounding a bit panicked.

Kirsty and Rachel looked at each other. As one the girls pulled out their lockets from underneath their tee shirts.

“The fairy dust the King and Queen gave us,” Kirsty said.

“It will always get us to the Fairy Kingdom,” went on Rachel. “So...”

“If you sprinkle it on Alan he should go home without needing to fly!” Julie cried.

“And I want you to go with him,” Jean said to Julie, flying up to Julie and the girls, who had been hovering over her and Alan on the ground.

“Okay Ma’am.” Julie sank to the ground and put a supporting arm around Alan.

“Get him straight to a healer,” Jean said.

“Of course.”

“So sorry Ma’am,” Alan said.

“No, you were terribly brave Alan, but the goblins are so much bigger than us. If they seriously want to hurt us, then Jack Frost must be feeling very powerful indeed. Okay girls.”

Each girl took a pinch of the magic dust from their lockets and showered the two police fairies. They vanished instantly in a collection of sparkling, glittering, shimmers.

*

The volunteers were setting up as the girls and Jean flew back into the main hall and they had to go to the ladies for Jean to make them human again. As they came out Rachel put her finger to her lips and pointed.

The two goblins were standing near to the fairy police station, looking wistfully towards the cake stall. Mrs Tate and Kirsty’s aunt were just whipping off the tablecloths that had covered the cakes as people were pouring in from the main doors.

The girls stepped back into the ladies at Jean’s hiss of, “Quick, these creatures of Jack Frost are so stupid if they can’t see us they’ll think we’ve given up. Let’s wait for their sweet tooth and greed to do the rest. Stay here.” With that Jean covered herself in purple sparking stars from her wand and she grew transparent. Kirsty and Rachel looked at each other in awe – they had never seen a fairy that could turn herself invisible.

Within ten minutes Jean returned. Julie was with her. She had returned to help as soon as she had seen Alan safely with a fairy healer back in the Kingdom. There were now several women and children queuing for the loo and the girls had had to pretend to wash their hands several times not to draw attention to themselves. They followed Jean and Julie out into the hall. Jean pointed. The two goblins were under the cake table, stuffing their faces with their stolen proceeds. Quickly, the two girls and the fairy police officers rushed to the toy stall and the fairy police station. As the girls talked to the woman, asking if they might look and how much it was, Jean, with the help of Julie, began to circle the station, showering it with magic sparkles from their wands.

Magic to move such a large object took a lot of work and Jean was only half through when the goblins realised what was happening. They were pushing through the crowds, knocking people aside, who assumed they were rude children, fortunately for all concerned. Rachel and Kirsty offered the stall lady the entire contents of their purses – Rachel’s spending money her parents had given her for the whole week, when a man with silver-white hair in a smart suit began shouting, waving a book in the air, by the bookstall. The distraction was all that was needed to stop the goblins reaching the station. Jean and Julie completed their final circuit and the station vanished in a shimmer of purple, pink, and red flashes and sparkles.

Jean waved a thank you and Julie curtsied gracefully to the girls and then they too vanished back to the Fairy Kingdom

“Well, I’m so sorry girls. Someone else must have bought it. You were so interested too.”

“It doesn’t matter now,” Kirsty said. “It’s all for a good cause. Come on Rachel, let’s go and help my Mum. We might get some free cakes.”


	3. Laura the pathologist fairy

The following morning was a bright and sunny Sunday and Mr. Tate announced at breakfast that he would ‘do’ the garden.

“It certainly needs something doing to it,” Mrs Tate agreed.

“What about you girls, fancy helping me in the garden?”

Rachel and Kirsty looked at each other. What they really needed to do was start to find the missing law and order fairies. But, unfortunately, they had no idea how.

“I’m not very good at gardening I’m afraid Mr. Tate,” Rachel said quickly.

“We wanted to go to the swings.”

“Can’t you at least go on your old swing in the garden, keep your old Dad company?” asked Mr. Tate, looking hopeful.

Kirsty felt sorry for her Dad, so she agreed. Which was how, an hour later, she was running into the kitchen in tears, calling for her mother.

Mrs Tate could not work out whatever was the matter, and followed her daughter out to the back garden, where Rachel stood over Mr Tate, also crying, while her husband held up a very cut hand and was yelling.

Luckily, Mrs Tate had a tea towel in her hand and quickly wrapped it around her husband’s hand. “How on earth did you cut yourself like that?” she wanted to know.

“Mr. Tate said the strimmer was blocked so he tried to pull the dried grass away.”

“Only Dad forgot to switch it off.”

Kirsty thought her Mum said a bad word under her breath and muttered something about all men being idiots but she wasn’t sure.

“Right girls, into the car. There’s no time for finding a babysitter. You must just come to the hospital with us.” And she went off to the drive, arm around Kirsty’s Dad.

The girls looked at one another. Perhaps a hospital might be the place to find the missing pathologist fairies!

 

*

 

It felt like the girls had been sitting on the sticky plastic chairs forever. They had exhausted the few magazines and books aimed at girls of their age and felt far too elderly to venture into the toy corner, although the garage full of cars and the bead puzzles were looking more and more attractive. Both girls were also eyeing the lovely, if elderly, looking rocking horse at the far end of the long waiting room. Flat screens on the wall were showing BBCNews24 on silent with the subtitles on, but that just added to the boredom. They were no longer too worried about Kirsty’s Dad. When they had got there Mrs Tate had told the girls to sit with Mr Tate while she queued up at a big glass screen where stern looking women sat. Then, very quickly, Mr Tate was called into a small room to see a nurse. His notes were moved from a red folder to an amber one and then the nurse wrapped his hand very tightly in a bandage, told him to keep it raised, which he did, holding in his other hand, resting in against his chest. He kept sighing and Rachel thought that he too kept looking at the large toy garage wistfully. Mrs Tate’s lips were very thin and she too kept sighing, but less sadly and more pointedly. She kept glaring sideways at her husband too. They had been actually been waiting an hour. According to the signs they could expect at least another hour before Mr. Tate was seen to get his hand stitched back together.

As two small boys were led out of the toys area as they were called in by a harassed looking young male doctor, Mr, Tate said, “Why don’t you go and look in the toy area for more books or magazines.” He lowered his voice. “I’m sure no-one would mind if you played with the toys, you know.”

Rachel piled the cars up on the top of the garage, lined them up and pushed the back one and watched, satisfied, as they raced down, smashing in a pile two stories below. Kirsty looked at her friend as if she had gone mad and searched the book box for something that was not a picture book for pre-schoolers.

“Dad will be okay, won’t he?”

“The balance of all things,” Rachel said, retrieving the cars to start again.

“You’re being stared at,” Kirsty said crossly.

“Don’t care. And yes, of course he will be, the nurse said he would. Not deep enough for nerve damage, she said. I was thinking about Queen Titania and what she says.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know, how is it we are always in the right place at the right time?”

“We are supposed to be finding police fairies and we are in a hospital.”

“And a pathologist. And a retired one.”

“Laura and Max. Yes.”

“Don’t you know what a pathologist is?”

“Well...” Kirsty thought about the detective TV shows she watched with her parents on cold winter evenings. “Someone who finds out how a person is murdered. I suppose they cut them up.”

“And they are doctors.”

“Yes, I did think so, but you can’t mean my Dad hurt his hand so we could rescue them do you? That’s so mean.”

“Not exactly, but we are here now so...” Rachel shrugged helplessly. Sitting with Mr Tate while Kirsty fetched her Mum had been more blood that she had ever wanted to see. She certainly didn’t want to be a pathologist when she grew up. She always had wanted to be a detective, but now she wasn’t sure, what with the blood...

They girls fell silent as they worked out how two little girls could wander off about the hospital and look without all the grown ups stopping them. Rachel pushed the cars again.

“I know!” Kirsty said and left the toy area and heading for her parents. Mrs Tate had bought two teas from the drinks machine and Mr Tate was sipping his while Mrs Tate was just staring at hers.

“Mum.”

“Yes?”

“You remember when we came here for my eye test?”

“Yes.”

“There were shops. On the big entrance corridor.”

“Yes, there was. It’s just one floor up.”

“I saw a lift. Rachel and I are so bored Mum, we’ve read everything there is in this waiting room. Could you let us go and see if we could buy a magazine or comic or book?”

Mrs Tate looked stricken. “Oh. Of course. This isn’t much of a holiday for you at all, is it Rachel. Here,” she put down her tea and picked up her handbag, pulling out her purse and handing Kirsty a £20 note, “please get yourselves some sweets and a book and comic each. You will be careful, won’t you?”

“We’ll go straight there and straight back Mrs Tate,” Rachel said, fingers crossed behind her back.

 

*

 

They walked the length of the very long waiting room to the end where there was the X-ray and radiography. A sign pointed in the opposite direction down a long corridor to the stairs and lift and exit. The girls followed the sign but soon found themselves in another part of the A & E. This one was for much more seriously injured people. The girls hovered, moving unconsciously together.

“Can I help?” asked a white nurse with a smile.

“My Dad hurt his hand. Mum gave me some money to buy a book and a comic.”

“Through here,” the nurse walked forward and pushed open some large plastic doors. “Along the corridor you’ll find the stairs and lifts. I’m sure you’re Dad will be fine.” She smiled her bright smile then turned back to the Major Injury area.

The girls walked towards a T-junction. On the left the signs said stairs, lift, exit, trauma, but Rachel pulled Kirsty’s arm and they headed on, leaving the bright white painted corridors with posters informing people about various injury and illness or charities and prints of artworks in bold, primary, colours or pastel washes, and together they headed down a dimly lit one bare of paint and plaster, just grey concrete floors and breeze block walls. But Rachel had seen the sign that said mortuary.

“I’m a bit scared,” Kirsty whispered.

“Me too,” whispered Rachel. “But if we can fight goblins we can do anything. Think about Laura and Max. They need our help.”

“And Queen Titania is relying on us,” Kirsty whispered back.

Despite long having grown out of holding hands with your best friend in the Infants, Rachel took Kirsty’s hand and Kirsty held on tightly. They carried on down the gloomy corridor that led to where the dead bodies were stored. Suddenly, Kirsty caught movement out of the corner of her eye.

“What was that?”

“S'sh?” Rachel put her finger to her lips. “Goblin,” she whispered.

 

*

 

The girls pulled back into the shadows close the to wall. The goblin was standing outside a door, just another plastic swinging door like those they had seen in the Major Injury past of the hospital. He seemed puffed up and pompous and full of himself, marching back and forth past the door, swinging his arms, in the manner of a marching soldier.

“One of us must distract him while the other one goes in,” Rachel whispered.

Kirsty bit her lip. “What if another one is inside? Or what if...?” Kirsty didn’t say dead body but Rachel heard it anyway. She swallowed hard,

“You let him see you and run down the corridor, I’ll go inside. Try and follow me in after you lead him away, okay?”

How, Kirsty wanted to say. This seemed to more the scariest time in all their adventures. She wished Jean had come back to help them. They really could do with some magic. And a grown up, really, even a grown up fairy. And Jean had been the most grown up seeming fairy they had met apart from the King and Queen. But perhaps that was what Jack Frost was relying on – the fact they were just little girls and wouldn’t be able to get this far this time!

“Right.” Kirsty squared her shoulders. “I’m, going to let him see me and run back down the corridor. I saw a basket full of dirty linen. I’m going to try and push him in there.”

“That’s a good idea! Good luck!”

The girls let go of each other’s hand and looked at each other and then Kirsty sneaked away out of the corridor, trying to look like she wasn’t trying to be seen. As the goblin span on his heel to march back in front of the door he saw her and gave a shout and began to run. Kirsty turned and ran as fast as she could, checking over her shoulder that the goblin was chasing her.

 

*

 

Rachel pushed open the plastic door carefully, peeking through. She didn’t want to bump into another goblin. Or a grown up doctor, nurse, or other hospital worker for that matter. The door was much heavier that she supposed. Heavier than a normal wooden one. The room was also grey, and dimly lit, but unlike outside, it was actually painted a pale grey. A row of big lockers on one wall dominated the room. Rachel had seen enough detective TV shows to know what was inside them and took an involuntary step back. A desk was in one corner with a little room behind it, a window over looking the desk and a door to the side. On the opposite side was a stack of trolley beds, naked of linen, plain black plastic and silver chrome. The place stank of disinfectant.

“Hello?” Rachel called, once she was sure there was no goblin or grown up. “Queen Titania and Chief Superintendent Jean sent me.”

“Over here!” squeaked a desperate little voice. It was a female voice.

“Where?” Rachel asked, stepping into the room and closing the door behind her. She saw a light switch so flicked it. Suddenly light flooded the room, making it look both bleaker but less scary at the same time.

“Ouch! That’s bright!” called the voice. “I’m on the desk! But I’m trapped.”

“Are you Laura?” Rachel asked as she rushed towards the desk.

“Yes!” yelled the voice. 

Rachel had got to the desk looked down at the source. Next to a desk tidy full of pens and paperclips was a specimen jar tightened with a cork top. Inside sat an angry looking fairy. She looked neither sad nor dejected, and certainly not scared, like previous fairies Rachel and Kirsty had rescued. No, she looked very angry.

Quickly Rachel tugged off the cork and Laura stood, stretched her arms and wings before flying quickly out. She had the most beautiful wings of emerald. They glittered and shone. She was dressed in khaki cargos and a lime green little cardigan over a white tee shirt. Her wand was also green; the same green as a doctor’s scrubs, and it looked a little like two little carved snakes were entwined at the top rather than a usual star or love heart or other fairy wand shape.

“Thank you so much. I presume you must be Kirsty or Rachel. Hello.”

“I’m Rachel.”

“Where is your friend? Because I must tell you that I think Jack Frost has someone else imprisoned in that little office.”

Before Kirsty could explain about the retired fairies being kidnapped too or that Kirsty had led the goblin away the doors swung open and Kirsty, looking a little dishevelled, ran in,

“Quick!” she yelled, “the goblin is after me! And he has a friend!”


	4. Max: the (retired) pathologist fairy

At first things had gone well for Kirsty. The goblin had continued to give chase and had not seen her friend Rachel go into the mortuary room, but as Kirsty approached the linen basket, planning to grab it, spin it around, and with luck, have the goblin fall inside and slam down the lid on him, a second goblin came around the corner from the lifts and stairs, carrying bottles of pop and bags of sweets and crisps – he had obviously been to the shop Kirsty’s parents thought the girls had gone to, and was returning with stolen supplies for their guard duty.

Kirsty reacted quickly; turning so fast she skidded on the floor and ran back the way she came, slamming into the first goblin, knocking him flying. She didn’t look back to see his friend help them up and shout angrily at her as they began to pursue. 

“Quick!” she yelled as she flung open the plastic swing doors, “the goblin is after me! And he has a friend!”

“What?” Rachel asked, startled.

Laura reacted quickly, flying over to the wall racked with metal locker doors. “Quickly, one of you open this drawer and hide the other side of it, the other, behind the desk.” With a flick of her wand the desk chair and contents of the desk scattered across the floor between the door and the lockers.

The girls did as they were told, Rachel struggling with the locker drawer until she had the catch loosened, at which point Laura flung it open with another flick of her wand. Laura yelled, “Get down girls, stay out of sight,” just as the goblins burst into the room. 

The first one fell over the chair, the second falling on top of him. Angrily they both stood up, scowling. Laura flew in from of them.

“Oh dear, I seem to have escaped,” she said and flew back quickly as one made a grab for her. With a roar they began to chase her, slipping and sliding and skidding on the pens, pencils, specimen pots, test tubes and various other items that Laura had scattered about. From their hiding places they could see Laura was leading them towards the open mortuary drawer.

“Now!” Laura yelled suddenly and both girls were ready, as although Laura had not had the time to explain her plan they had both guessed it. The girls jumped up and ran at the goblins and pushed them hard. They both tipped head forward into the drawer. There was plenty of space; two goblins are nowhere near as big as one adult human. Laura flicked her wand and the drawer and goblins were showered with green sparkling mini sharp knives – or rather scalpels – and the drawer slammed shut. Rachel clicked up the fastener and the lock, just to make sure.

Laura laughed triumphantly. “That will teach them to imprison me! They can just jolly well stay there ’til Jack Frost comes and fetches them!”

The girls thought she looked so fierce. “Won’t they suffocate?” asked Kirsty, slightly worried. She didn’t like Jack Frost’s goblins at all, but she wouldn’t want to kill them.

“Oh, I shouldn’t think so.”

Laura stopped her mid-flight triumphant dance to look at the girls’ worried faces. “Oh no, of course no. And I’m medically trained for all magical creatures, not just fairies. Now girls,” Laura fluttered down to the desk and sat at the edge, legs pressed together. “Thank you so much for your help. As I said to Rachel, I believe they have another fairy locked inside that office. I am rather worried to who it might be to be honest. I know that they scattered Robbie and James somewhere, but not here, there was only me left from those they pulled from the station by the time I got here. Then the next day, when they shoved some food in that damn jar they took someone into that room.” Laura sighed and stretched. “But first things first. Could you help me with those things? It’s not fair on the humans who work here. I’m afraid my magic might be a bit worn out after opening and closing the mortuary drawer.

While the girls picked up the chair and the desk items and tidied them back to Laura’s satisfaction – she wanted it to be exactly as the human doctor had left it on Friday - they explained to Laura what King Oberon and Queen Titania had told them and Jean.

“Poor Jean,” Laura commented, “she must be so worried about her father. But she is safe?”

Rachel and Kirsty nodded reassuringly.

“To be honest, that was who I thought was in that room. I think now it must be Max. There tends to be symmetry between things here on Earth and in our Realm, a symmetry that Jack Frost can’t ignore. I was placed here, so probably Max too.”

Once the desk and the floor were back to normal, Rachel tried the inner office’s door. It was locked.

“There is probably a key in one of the desk drawers,” Laura suggested, so Kirsty rifled through all four drawers with no luck. The two girls and the fairy were about to give up with frustration and think of another plan that didn’t involve throwing the chair through the window when Laura, flying in angry circles, spotted a set of three keys shoved inside the pen pot.

“Here,” she cried, pointing. Kirsty picked up the keys and handed them to Rachel, who on the second try; opened the door. They stepped and flew inside.

The inner office was tiny and narrow, barely more than a large cupboard, and very dark inside. Rachel found a light switch and flicked it and harsh bright light from a naked, old-fashioned bulb flooded the room. Laura flew to the far wall. Kirsty and Rachel stepped further into the room with more caution. There were shelves with empty test tubes and containers, piles of forms and wallets for requesting tests and sending reports. There was also a shelf full of old brown box files full of yellowing sheets of paper that looked like they had been there a very long time indeed, perhaps before most reports and information were kept on computer.

“We need to look for a box or jar big enough to imprison a fairy. Max is quite a big fairy too, so don’t go looking at anything too tiny.”

“I heard that!” yelled a tiny voice, deeper than any fairy voice the girls had heard, even King Oberon’s.

“Max!” called Laura. “Where are you?”

“Laura! Is that you? You must take care. I can hear humans.”

“I’m with Rachel and Kirsty. They freed me. Their Majesties sent them.”

“What about those damn goblins?”

Kirsty and Rachel looked at each other. They had never heard a fairy say a bad word before!

“We took care of them,” Rachel explained.

“They’re having a little lie down. On ice, so to speak,” Laura said.

Max harrumphed with laughter.

“Keep talking,” Kirsty said. “Every one, be quiet, and everyone go to a different bit of the room, all spaced out.”

Laura flew higher to be near the top shelves while Rachel walked to the back of the room and crouched down to be near the dusty cupboards under the workbench. Kirsty stayed at the door end, near to cleaner, less dusty, more recently used, shelves with the test tubes and specimen pots. 

“Can you talk now please Max?” Kirsty said.

“What to you want me to stay? I’m cramped and cold and hungry. Dah dah de dum. Ho hum. I’m in here...”

“Got you!” Rachel bent down and retrieved a large, old-fashioned specimen jar with a rubber seal and lifted it up onto the workbench. Kirsty joined her friends and both girls and fairy peered at the fairy in the jar. Inside the jar, distorted by the thick, old, curved green glass; was a male fairy, with grey hair, wearing a suit, but that was all the girls could see.

He looked up at them, “Get me out of here!”

First Rachel and then Kirsty tried and failed to pull of the rubber seal of the specimen jar, but it was so difficult, vacuum-sealed.

“Oh for goodness sakes!” Laura said, exasperated, and waved her wand over the jar and the rubber lid flew off, nearly hitting Kirsty on the nose. She then sank slowly down to the bench, her wings unable to keep her up, still exhausted from her battle with the goblins and her opening and closing the mortuary door, where she had trapped them.

Max flew out immediately and went straight to Laura. He sat down next to her and put his hand on her shoulder. He wore a dark grey, slightly crumbled, suit, with a white shirt and red bow tie. He also wore heavy, dark-framed, fashionable, glasses. His large wings were deep red with pink tips and sparkling pink glitter edging all the way around them. 

“Are you alright my dear?” he asked Laura.

“If I’ve told you once I’ve told you a thousand times, I’m not your dear,” Laura snapped back.

“Everyone is dear to me Laura. Especially my friends. Now, what have you been doing to yourself?”

“Those goblins...” Laura began weakly.

“She was amazing!” said Kirsty.

“Awesome!” added Rachel.

“She locked them both up.”

“Where?” Max asked.

“Body safe,” Laura replied.

“‘On ice’,” Max laughed, quoting Laura’s earlier quip. “I see. Well, if you are able to fly my dear, we must get going. It’s been a while and I for one don’t want to be here when Jack Frost comes to free them.”

“Agreed. If only I hadn’t exhausted myself...”

“I think you’ve done a wonderful job. Now, if one of these lovely girls could just carry you out?”

“Of course,” Rachel said and picked up Laura very gently and lay her on her palm.

“Just until my powers are recharged. I have no intention of making a habit of this.”

“No, of course not,” Rachel smiled.

Max led the way, Rachel followed carrying Laura, and Kirsty came last, switching off the light, locking the door, returning the key and making sure the desk looked as it did when they had first found Laura. Of the goblins there was still no sign, the mortuary drawer remained resolutely shut.

Max directed them the opposite way to the way they had come from A&E, down the corridor and turning into a brighter, lighter one that came out by a door opening onto a car park.

“Are you fit my dear?” Max asked.

“Max!” Laura said, but there was an affectionate fondness behind the anger.

“I know, I know, but I call Morse and Robbie my dear too, and they never object. Have you found him? Morse? Why is Robbie not here.”

“Jack Frost has taken the whole station. Everyone is missing.”

“We rescued Laura before you,” Kirsty said.

“And we found the police station. Jean helped us. But others are missing as well as Laura,” Rachel added.

“Oh dear!”

“And we have no idea how to go about it!” Rachel exclaimed. 

“I wish Jean would come back and help us,” Kirsty sighed. 

“Jean will be working hard to maintain the balance here on Earth all by herself,” Laura said.

“Jean said something about reflecting the nature of things, but we’re not sure what that means,” Rachel said sadly.

“But we did find the police station at the police fete.”

“And you found us here, didn’t you my dears? So the same must be true for the others, there must be some reflection of the missing fairy. Other than that I haven’t a clue. Unless you stay to watch Jack Frost rescue his goblins and try to follow him.”

“Don’t be ridiculous Max! These are human children! And it would be far too dangerous, even if their parents wouldn’t miss them. I’m ready to fly now.” Laura flew up off Rachel’s palm. “Thank you Kirsty and thank you especially Rachel for finding and freeing me. You’ve both been very brave. Keep on being brave and keep your eyes open, your ears open, and your minds too, and I’m sure you will find and rescue everyone.”

“Yes. Good luck my dears. Thank you so much. And now we must go. I’m so hungry. I think the goblins forgot about me. I’ve not had food for two days.”

“You should have said!” Rachel said, fumbling through her pockets until she found a few wine gums left in a bag. She offered one to Max, who ate it hungrily, as big as a whole cake to him. Not too seem rude Rachel offered the other sweet to Laura.

“Thank you. Although the goblins fed me, this will help with the drain on using such huge magic to lock them up.”

After they had eaten, the two fairy pathologists said again their farewells and flew up into the sky, vanishing as they entered the Fairy Kingdom.


	5. Morse the (retired) Chief Detective Inspector fairy

The girls hurried back, remembering in time when they got to the stairs to go up to the shop on the second level and hurriedly buy a magazine each and some sweets. Kirsty saw a magazine on cars for men and got that as well as a bag of her father’s favourite toffees, then grabbed a magazine she knew her mother liked to read too. Rachel picked up a small packet of felt tips as she knew the magazines they had chosen had pullout workbooks and colouring-in pages.

“Girls! Where have you been!” exclaimed Mrs Tate as they returned.

Both girls looked at their feet while Rachel mumbled, “I’m sorry Mrs Tate, we got lost. And then we read some of the comics and magazines in the shop before we bought one each.”

“We got you one too! Where is Dad?” Kirsty blurted out, not bearing the fact that her mother had had to worry about them too, not being able to tell the truth, that they had just rescued two very important fairies from the clutches of Jack Frost’s goblins and noticing her father not sitting where he should be, bandaged hand raised onto his shoulder.

“We are still waiting for a doctor to stitch it, but another nurse wanted him to have an X-ray too.” Mrs Tate looked up and the girls worried faces and added, “It’s just routine, I’m sure he’s fine. Or will be when it is stitched it up. And do sit down girls!”

The girls sat down and gave Mrs Tate her magazine and offered her a jellybean and had just got out their own magazines when Mr Tate returned from the X-ray.

“No damage to my bones,” he said, wriggling his fingers so the bandage moved slightly. It started to bleed again.

“David! Really, you are worse than the children sometimes!”

“Hello girls,” Mr Tate said, grinning. He took the toffees and the magazine with another grin and a kiss to his daughter.

It was not long until he was called into a cubicle to have his stitches. He looked so nervous Mrs Tate went with him.

“I didn’t think of grown-ups getting scared,” Rachel whispered. “But I suppose anyone would be.”

“My Dad is very brave,” Kirsty defended.

“Yes, it must be where you get it from. You were very brave today. And that’s three missing fairies we’ve rescued already.”

“More, if you count all the ones in the police station. I liked Laura. She is so different to any fairy we’ve ever met. Even more than Jean, because she is a bit like Queen Titania.”

“Apart from the boys, we’ve never met boys before. Apart from the King of course. Who do we have to rescue now?”

“Three more boys. The detective inspector and the retired one and a sergeant. Robbie and James and Mouse.”

“Morse,” Rachel corrected. “But it is a strange name.”

“But not as strange as Strange! And we’ve forgotten him. He’s Jean’s Dad and King Oberon’s friend. How could we forget him? How can we find them?”

“Remember Jean saying all things must balance and how we found the police station in a police station and the pathologists in a hospital? And Jean and Max said something about reflections of the fairies themselves. But does that mean their jobs or what kind of fairy they are? How can we know what they like? I wish Jean would come back and help us!”

“So do I! I think they all mean their jobs. But where will we find all the others? We can’t go to crime scenes can we?”

“I don’t know,” Kirsty whispered.

 

*

 

It didn’t take long for Mr Tate to come back with a clean, more permanent, dressing, much less padded. He peeled it back to show the girls the black stitches and white tape. Both girls made appropriate grossed out noises and Mrs Tate told all three of them off and then they went back to the car. Mrs Tate had to drive again. As they pulled out of the hospital car park she said that they must all be very hungry and their own roast at home would be ruined now so she suggested a country pub for a decent meal. Both girls and Mr Tate agreed enthusiastically.

 

*

 

The pub they stopped at was called The Trout and the girls sat at an outside table next to a little river. A curved wooden bridge crossed the stream and ducks swam about. Mrs Tate ordered four roasts from the carvery and frowned at Mr Tate ordering himself a pint of mild.

“Good real ale,” he commented happily. “Plus, you’re driving.”

While they waited for their dinners the girls wandered about across the decking to some grasslands where they could watch the ducks, wishing they had bread. Out of the corner of her eye Kirsty saw movement, a small, dark figure in the long grass of the meadow beside the pub gardens. She grabbed Rachel’s arm, hissing,

“A goblin!”

“Let’s follow him,” Rachel whispered back.

The goblin skirted around the patio and decking away from the people with drinks or food, and into a side door.

The girls looked at each other. Were they allowed to go into the pub? No one was looking. Rachel pointed to a sign pointing to the toilets and Kirsty nodded. If a grown up stopped them they could always pretend to be looking for the toilet.

The inside was all wooden beams and cosy alcoves. The carpet was a deep red, and several fireplaces were lit, despite it being a warm spring day.

The goblin snuck across the large bar and through a door marked private. The girls managed to follow him without being seen. The room was a smaller bar, but the furniture was piled up in the middle of the room and covered with dustsheets. A ladder was leant against the wall and a small collection of paint tins were next to it.

“There must be a police fairy hidden here,” Rachel whispered.

“But what do we do about out ‘friend’?” Kirsty whispered back, pointing to the goblin that had climbed onto a sofa covered with dustsheets.

Just then he looked up, he obviously had excellent hearing and had heard the girls’ whispers. He growled angrily and began to walk towards them. Panicked the girls ran into the room towards him, separating. He dithered, not sure which girl to chase, deciding on Rachel who had run to the shelves. As he did so Kirsty pushed over the ladder, which landed on him, trapping the goblin between rungs. He howled in frustration and thrashed about. Rachel upended a tin of white paint over him, putting the tin over his head, squashing his big nose inside. His angry noises became muffled and tinny, his big feet kicking out, his arms trapped by his sides by the ladder.

“Oh do shut up!” called an angry little voice. “It’s bad enough to trap me here, now I have to listen to your tuneless yowling.”

“Hello,” Rachel called. “Is anyone there? Who is that? We’ve been sent by Queen Titania and Superintendent Jean.”

“I’m here.”

“Where?”

“How can I tell? I’m covered with a pewter pint tumbler, however I get the impression I’m somewhere up high.”

Both girls looked up at the shelves that had not been taken off the walls. The highest still had a row of glass, tin, and pewter pint pots and mugs. 

“Keep talking. Or singing. So we can hear you. Sir,” Rachel said. Kirsty looked at her curiously, but Rachel shrugged. Something about this male fairy’s voice called for the word Sir, for being polite like with a schoolteacher.

Kirsty shrugged back and fetched a tall barstool that had been knocked over during the brief chase with the goblin.

The fairy policeman began to hum something deep and dramatic, rather like the music Kirsty’s mother played on the car radio. She held the stool steady under where she guessed the tuneful humming was coming from while Rachel carefully climbed the stool and lifted what she hoped was the right beer glass. A male fairy flew out just as she over-balanced and Kirsty struggled vainly to hold up stool and her friend. Just as she felt herself fall back Rachel felt the familiar sensation of shrinking and the itch between her shoulder blades as she grew wings. In no time at all she was flying up from the floor and gently landing on the shelf next to the fairy.

He had snowy white hair and the deepest blue eyes surrounded by the longest lashes Rachel had ever seen. He wore a beautifully tailored three-piece suite in dark blue pin stripe and crisp white shirt with a red silk tie. His wings were a deep red, not the bright red of Max’s, but the red of a very fast, old, racing car Rachel’s father had a picture of and dreamed of owning. She always knew that fairies looked more beautiful close up, when she was the same size, but she couldn’t help be impressed by his elegance. The older the fairy got, the smarter they got, she thought.

“You sing beautifully Sir,” she said.

“You do too,” called Kirsty from the ground, still human sized. “But who are you Sir. We still have four policemen and retired officers to rescue.”

“Detective Chief Inspector Morse, retired. And you must be the two irrepressible young ladies who have assisted their Majesties and the Kingdom so many times before. Thank you so much for rescuing me but I do think we should go.” With that he pointed towards the goblin, struggling against the ladder. He had already freed one arm and had managed to lift the bucket slightly, so his very long nose was no longer squashed but sticking out the pale’s edge.

“You’re right Sir,” Kirsty said, backing away from the goblin and the ladder, surprised that she too was calling this fairy Sir.

“Of course I am,” he said arrogantly and waved his wand over Kirsty, showering her in sparkling blue musical notes, shot and beer glasses and bottles. She felt herself shrink down to fairy sized immediately, and as soon as she felt her wings beat on her back she took to the air and joined the fairy officer and her friend on the shelf.

They flew out through an open window high-up, near the ceiling, just opened a crack for the paint fumes to escape, Rachel thought, small enough for the smell but not enough for someone to break in – or out! – unless they were a fairy. She looked back as she followed Morse and her friend out, seeing the goblin at last free his other arm. He shook his fist at them and spat out in anger.

Both girls followed Morse out into the sunshine and over the meadow to a clump of trees. It had been some days since Jean had shrunk them to fairy size, and that had been to go to the Kingdom and meet the King and Queen. It had been much longer since they had had the joy to be able to fly out in the sunshine among trees and flowers of their own world. They both enjoyed themselves very much.

Morse landed in the small copse of trees and waved his wand and again the girls were showered in the musical notes and glass shaped sparkles and felt themselves grow to their normal size. He flew up to look at them in the eyes as soon as they were themselves again.

“Thank you,” he said seriously. “I must go back now. The police station vanished the day before we were taken, Max, Strange and I, and there will be much to do.”

“We found the station. With Jean,” Kirsty said.

“And we rescued Max this morning.”

“And Laura too.”

“You have been busy. I am grateful. But you must find Strange.”

“We will, but can you help us Sir?” asked Rachel.

“Do you mean stay? Impossible, I’m not very good with children or humans, and I must give my report. Besides, I am retired you know...”

“Can you just tell us something, please.”

“Just what might I tell you young lady?”

“Max and Laura said something about reflecting the missing fairies and Jean said something about balance. We found you here but we don’t know why.”

“Well, I must confess to be fond of the odd glass of beer – real, of course – in a pleasant location. That must be the reflection. Whereabouts did you find Max and Laura?”

“The hospital, see Kirsty’s Dad...”

“Never mind the details, that must be the balance of Jean...”

“You mean she made my Dad have an accident?”

“Not as such, no, however she would have tried her hardest to arrange a little magic to help you get to the right place. So, you need to know what Strange might like, h’m?”

“Yes please Sir.”

“And Robbie and James,” added Kirsty.

Morse harrumphed a little laugh. “Robbie and James like each other!”

Kirsty and Rachel looked at each other a little puzzled.

“No matter. Other than food, particularly biscuits, what does Strange like? He is often found playing golf since his retirement. Odd game. Robbie likes to watch humans play football, but other than that...? His work and his children. And James, of course. James is very musical; he plays the guitar, apparently ‘rows a bit’, and frowns a lot and seems sad. I don’t really know him. I’m sorry.”

“I think that might help us Sir.”

“We have found biscuit and cake and sweets fairies, so we will keep out eyes open in the same way for Strange. And we are looking for music or football, if not actual police work,” Rachel said.

“We were worried we might have to find a real crime scene, and that is a bit scary,” Kirsty added.

“You might very well. Jean was very serious about holding the balance and things reflecting here on Earth. There will be more crime here until the Fairy Police Station and its entire staff are restored. I’m sure you will be brave if you have to. You both were very brave the way you tackled the goblin guarding me.”

“Thank you,” both girls said together.

“Now I must go. And so should you. I imagine you are here with adults and they will be worrying. If you walk through the trees that way you will see a little bridge to cross. It has a gate that will be locked, but I’m sure you two girls with have no problem climbing it back onto the pub’s terrace. Goodbye,” and with that he flew straight up and vanished from sight as he disappeared from this world to his.


	6. Strange the (retired) Chief Superintendent fairy

There was only three days of the half term left; four days had gone by with nothing happening. Kirsty and Rachel had kept their eyes open, hoping for some clue. They had walked around Kirsty’s village, heading towards any police car or officer they saw, hoping to find a scene of crime or something where Jack Frost had hidden one of the missing law and order fairies; but nothing. Besides, as Rachel pointed out, the crime would have to be recent, and he had taken the fairy officers and retired officers several days ago now. 

Kirsty had pleaded with her mum to take the girls into the city, which she had, but she had taken them to a museum with dinosaurs and scary shrunken heads that had terrified the girls, despite all their brave encounters with Jack Frost’s goblins. Then they had gone to a park next to a river to have a picnic. Rachel remembered Morse telling them that James ‘rowed a bit’ after several punts and rowing boats passed them. They walked up and down the edge of the river hoping to find him, but nothing. Kirsty asked about the famous boat race so after lunch her mother took them to another park, or meadow, to another river, where the university boathouses were. There they saw teams of young men and women training in eights and fours and again searched both rivers, the Isis and Cherwell, on both sides, but still nothing. 

The city’s police station backed onto the Meadow so Kirsty asked it they might visit her uncle, but her mother disagreed, saying he was far, far, too busy. Rachel then had the very bad idea of hiding Kirsty’s Mum’s purse so they could pretend it had been stolen, but they both agreed that was far too wicked and neither the King and Queen nor Superintendent Jean would approve of the action.

That night they lay in their beds in Kirsty’s room despairing of ever finding Strange, Robbie, or James. As they lay there, both girls in a miserable funk, the phone rang and they heard Kirsty’s Dad answer it.

“Oh, hello. Is there a problem Mr Walker?”

“It’s my Dad,” Rachel whispered. The girls crept out of the bedroom and hung over the banisters on the landing, eavesdropping.

“No, of course we won’t mind. I think that’s a lovely idea. Only wish I could join you, but I suspect my drive, let alone my handicap, would be a bit off.”

Mr Tate paused and then said, “No, I mangled my hand with the strimmer. Out of action on all fronts, not just the golf, for a couple of weeks, at least. Boss not pleased...”

Satisfied nothing was wrong at Rachel’s home, Kirsty and Rachel went back to bed, after all, listening to Kirsty’s father drone on about golf and work and cars was not exactly the girls idea of fun.

 

*

 

The following morning was a clear and sunny day. Mrs Tate came in very early to wake them, smiling brightly. “Up you get girls, I have a nice surprise for you Rachel, but you both must get washed and dressed now, please.”

“Why Mum?” demanded Kirsty.

“What’s the surprise?” asked Rachel at the same time.

“Your father rang last night Rachel. He has an important meeting on a golf course very near to us, and he thought, as he never gets to see you on your holidays these days, he’d come and take you and Kirsty with him. Apparently some of the other men going are bringing their children. He said that you can hunt for lost balls, the clubhouse pays the children a pound a bag of balls, or gives sweets, whatever you prefer.”

Kirsty and Rachel looked at each other grinning. Morse had told them how Strange loved to play golf. This was one of those reflections Laura and Max had told them about.

 

*

 

Mr Walker turned up early, at just gone eight that morning, but both girls had rushed and were dressed, breakfasted, and had brushed their teeth. They had discussed what to do about the other children, who might want to play with them and get in their way of looking for Strange. Looking for golf balls for money or sweets gave them the perfect excuse to go off on their own in what Rachel called the roughs.

 

*

The other children were the teenage son of Mr Walker’s client and a toddler son of his PA, who wore his son in a back carrier and seemed to be proud he could still hit the ball no problem, and was already boasting of a hole in one, you just see. The teenaged boy was sulky and sullen and barely said two words, playing computer games on his ipad and not even looking up at the girls. He insisted on staying at the clubhouse, and sighing, his father gave him a five-pound note for ‘cokes and things’.

“What about you two girls? Fancy watching me beat your father?” asked Mr Walker’s client.

“Maybe at the end,” Rachel said shyly, “but we fancy trying to find some golf balls. Mrs Tate told us they give children money and sweets for finding them.”

“Good idea!” boomed Mr Walker, as if although he wanted Rachel around, he didn’t really, not quite. Rachel was used to this.

“Good hunting!” called Rachel’s father’s PA, waving.

“Gah untim!” called his son, waving over his Dad’s shoulder from the backpack child carrier thing.

“We’re going to need it too,” muttered Rachel after she and Kirsty had thanked the PA and said goodbye to the three men.

“And not just for golf balls either,” agreed Kirsty.

 

*

 

The girls looked all morning with no luck. They, however, did find quite a few balls, which they put in the fine mesh bag a nice lady at the clubhouse had given them. They had also found a gold Rolex watch and a Nokia Lumia.

“These people have more money than sense,” sighed Rachel. She had heard her mother say it many times but until today she hadn’t understood her.

“Or it could be about the law and order balance being out of kilter, all messed up by Jack Frost kidnapping all the law and order fairies?” offered Kirsty.

“Maybe,” Rachel conceded, but then added thoughtfully, “But wouldn’t these things have been stolen, not just lost?”

“Unless the thief dropped them?””

“That’s silly!”

“Not if he had a whole bag of things and they just fell out.”

“Don’t be silly!” Rachel snapped, their failure to rescue any more fairies after their good beginning at the start of the holiday, making her short tempered.

Kirsty looked at her best friend for a moment, before tossing back her hair and storming off. “I’m not silly!” she threw back in a parting shot. Unfortunately her flounce was ruined somewhat by her catching her foot in a rabbit hole and tumbling down a slope into some bushes, landing with a bump next to a huge oak tree, catching her chin on one of the roots.

“Kirsty! Kirsty!” called Rachel from above her, running and slipping and sliding down the embankment to her friend. “Are you alright? I didn’t mean it. Of course you’re not silly! I was just so worried about not finding anyone else for Jean...”

“S’sh!” called Kirsty.

“Well, that’s nice!” Rachel said, finally arriving at her friend and sitting down on a large root. Kirsty had mud, dirt, grass stains, and blood on her knees and chin. “Are you alright?”

Kirsty put her finger to her lips and pointed to the tangle of roots, ferns and moss at the base of the large tree. In amongst them was a flash of white.

“Another golf ball?”

“I don’t think so. I heard a tiny little cough.”

Rachel looked at her friend and then said, “I’ll look.” She crept forward and pulled out a white polystyrene cup. Underneath was the largest – Rachel tried not to think fattest, as that was rude! – fairy man she had ever seen. He was sat in a little sad huddle, looking very dejected and unhappy.

“Hello,” Rachel said, “Are you Strange? The retired Chief Superintendent? Your daughter Jean has sent us to find you.”

“Yes I am,” he said, looking up at Rachel. “And that means you must be Rachel or Kirsty. I am glad to see you. I’ve lost count of the days I’ve been here.”

“Before anything, are there any goblins nearby?” Rachel asked hurriedly, glancing up nervously. Kirsty was also scanning the line of trees and bushes for any movement.

“No. They left me here days ago. I honestly thought they had left me to die. But more importantly, they took the entire police station before they came for me and my fellow retired officers...?”

“We found the station with Jean, and we have also found Max and Morse.”

“So, it was just me then... I wonder, perhaps that’s why they left me to die, having lost so much they had stolen, something to leave a little mischief and keep things a bit unbalanced... It’s just the sort of interfering, wicked, thing I would expect!”

Rachel decided not to tell Strange just yet they had yet to find Robbie and James. She was feeling sick with fear and worry herself – if the goblins had left Strange alone for days with no food, it was even more important to find the other two fairies. After all, she supposed fairies were magical and didn’t need to eat so much like a human, but they still needed to eat sometimes!

“Can you fly? Do you feel alright Sir?” Like with Morse, she felt she should call this elderly fairy policeman sir. “We don’t have anything with us but we can carry you back to the clubhouse here and get you something to eat.”

“Please,” Strange said forlornly. Rachel held out her hand and Strange climbed onto the palm. One handed, Rachel stumbled over the tangle of roots and mess of ferns and moss to Kirsty.

“And you must be Kirsty. Thank you both,” Strange said.

“You’re welcome,” Kirsty said dejectedly. Now the initial shock of the fall and the thrill of finding another missing fairy was wearing off, Kirsty was not feeling too good, with grazed chin and palms and two cut knees, her jeans ripped through. They were new jeans too, purple, her favourite colour.

“You don’t sound very happy little girly,” Strange said, standing up to his full height on Rachel’s palm. He was tall for a fairy, as well as big. He wore a dark grey suit with a blue tie and white shirt. Now he was in the light Rachel could see his spread wings were blue, starting with deep indigo and fading up to the palest sky blue at the tips, with all the blues graduated in-between as Rachel looked up his wings, catching the light and shimmering. 

“I fell,” Kirsty said unhappily.

“It’s how we found you,” Rachel explained.

“Well, we can’t have you miserable like that. I think, despite being very hungry, I have enough magic left to help you.” Strange raised his wand, tipped with a little round ball that Rachel thought might be a golf ball but Kirsty thought looked like a digestive biscuit (King Oberon had said that Strange had wanted to be a biscuit fairy when he had been at school). He waved his wand and showered Kirsty in blue glitter and sparkles and she felt her cuts and grazes erase, felt the pain vanish and when she looked down, her jeans were repaired too.

“Thank you so much!” she exclaimed happily.

“You’re welcome,” Strange said weakly, sitting down on Rachel’s palm.

“We need to get him something to eat and drink quickly!” Kirsty said, grabbing the bag of golf balls and her and Rachel’s backpacks they had brought out with them. Rachel grabbed her bag and opened it and settled the half-conscious fairy into her bag, carefully wrapping him some tissues so he would get bumped and banged about as they walked across the roughs and links back to the clubhouse.

 

*

 

When they entered the huge lobby of the clubhouse the girls paused. There were big mahogany double doors on one side that said ‘Members only’ and glass-panelled doors the other side saying ‘Restaurant’. There was also an ornate staircase curving its way upstairs. The receptionist came out from the large desk tucked in the corner behind the curve of the staircase. She was the lady who had given them the mesh bags for lost golf balls.

“Can I help you?”

Rachel and Kirsty looked up. They were both desperate to find some food and a quiet space so they could feed poor Strange, who had not eaten for days.

“Oh. It’s Mr Walker’s daughter and her friend. What a lot of balls you’ve found. Come to the desk and claim your reward.”

As they followed her Kirsty remembered the watch and the phone and pulled them from her bag. “We found these too.”

“You are clever girls. Maybe you’ll become detectives when you grow up.”

“My uncle is a detective,” Kirsty said, looking at Rachel. They grinned at each other. Little could the lady know how they were helping find the detectives from the Fairy Kingdom to restore the balance on law and order and justice here.

They received a five pound note each for finding the lost property, another for the bag of golf balls, a huge bag of sweets, lollypops and sherbet, another of mini chocolate bars and a voucher for free chips and a drink. The lady pointed to a door tucked around an alcove next to the door to the Members’ Bar. It said ‘Family Room’.

Rachel quickly found a corner table in the shadow, dumping Kirsty’s bag and gently taking out Strange. He was quite pale after the magic to mend Kirsty’s bruises, grazes, cuts, and ripped jeans after days with no food. Kirsty had grabbed a tray to get chips and juice for both of them to share with Strange.

“Are you alright Sir? We have some sweets and chocolate. Would you like some?”

Strange chose a small bag of chocolate buttons, and after eating two began to look less pale and he sat upright, looking quite imposing. Kirsty returned and found a thimble in her bag that she filled with juice. After two thimbles of juice and a warm chip, Strange demanded to know of their adventures so far. This meant telling him, of course, that some of Jean’s officers had been taken from the station too, and although the station was back where it should be, opposite King Oberon and Queen Titania’s Palace, and although they had found Laura, as well as the other retired officers kidnapped the same time as Strange, there was still Robbie and James to find, the Detective Inspector and Detective Sergeant. Strange was horrified.

“The balance for your world is still in danger. Plain-clothes officers deal with serious crimes like murder. This means there may well still be far too much violent crime than there should be here in your world!”

Both girls looked horrified. They didn’t know what to say. They tried to think if the evening news Mr Tate watched at suppertime was more full of horrible violence and crime in the world that was usual on the news. They weren’t sure. The news was always horrid and sad. They were wondering what exactly they could say when they heard the teenage boy’s voice, the one who had come with Mr. Walker’s client.

“What are you doing? Playing pretend? Bit old aren’t you? Is that your toy fairy? Bit of a fat ugly one, isn’t it?”

“Oi! Watch who you call fat and ugly matey!”

The boy took a step back, aghast. “It’s... it’s real...”

“Yes I am, so watch it matey, or I’ll turn you into a frog.”

“I’m going to keep you. No one will believe me otherwise!” and with that he reached out to grab Strange, who flew out of his reach and, with a flick of his wand, showered the boy’s face with blue sparkles. He stumbled back, covering his eyes with his hands, shaking his head. Then, he lowered them as if in a trance, shook his head again, and said, “Dad told me to look after you. Can I get you a coke or something.”

The girls looked at each other, then at Strange, who the boy now didn’t seem to be able to see, and smiled. “Please,” said Kirsty, “orange juice please.”

“Thank you,” Rachel said, and they watched him move towards the counter, walking as if he had just woken up.

“I must go. The forgetting spell will work, but my blocking spell will only work a few minutes. He’ll be able to see me in a few seconds now. Thank you again girls. And good luck with finding the boys.” And with that he flew up into the air, disappearing just as he reached the ceiling.

“Only two more to go,” Rachel said, sitting back down and taking a chip. “But how?”

“I’ve been thinking about that,” Kirsty said. “I think we should concentrate on finding James, and he can help us find Robbie. We know clearly what he likes. And there is a music shop in the village as well as several in the city, and one in your town. Plus, there is a rowing club in the village. We can spend all day tomorrow looking for him.”

“Let’s hope we’re lucky. I go home on Sunday evening, and it’s Friday afternoon already,” Rachel replied glumly.


	7. Robbie the Detective Inspector fairy

That evening the girls sat miserably on the carpet trying to finish a jigsaw puzzle they had started on Rachel’s first day, the day of pouring rain and howling high winds, while Mr and Mrs Tate watched the news.

“I don’t know what is getting into people, that is yet another murder! I’m sure it’s not normally that bad,” said Mr Tate to his wife.

“And there was that big bank raid in London too, like something out of a novel!” Mrs Tate replied.

“Have you seen this,” Mr Tate passed Kirsty’s mother the local newspaper.

“Oh! Poor Mrs Steventon!”

“And already Mrs White was attacked a few days ago and is still in hospital.”

“What’s this Dad?” Kirsty turned around to look at her parents sitting together on the sofa. Rachel looked too.

The grown-ups looked at each other a little worried.

“We’re not babies!” Kirsty said hotly.

“It’s the old peoples’ bungalows by the park. There’s been four thefts, the last one poor Mrs White was hit on the head and is still very poorly and now... now the thief has killed Mrs Steventon!”

“That’s horrible. Even if she was over 90,” Kirsty couldn’t help adding.

“Kirsty!” said her Mum and Rachel together.

“Sorry,” said Kirsty while Rachel gave her a meaningful look and her Mum a cross look.

“But these things are rare girls, so don’t go worrying about it, will you? I’m sure the police will catch whoever it is soon. How about some cake and cocoa before you go to bed? I’m sure I would like some cake,” said Mr Tate, smiling winningly at his wife, Kirsty’s Mum.

 

*

 

Once in Kirsty’s bedroom the girls could talk.

“It must be like Jean said, the balance is still all wrong,” Rachel said once Mrs Tate had said goodnight and switched of the big light and closed the door.

“We found the police station and most of the law and order fairies now, you would think it wouldn’t be so bad. But more murders than usual. And a big bank robbery. And a murder in my village!” Kirsty knew she shouldn’t be so excited.

“I think it must be because we haven’t found the CID fairies. Only the retired ones. Earlier this week, do you remember, on the local news some expert was talking about the increase in drunken violence and anti social behaviour? That seems to have stopped. It’s because we got the police station back! But we have to find Robbie and James for it all to be safe and calm here again. It’s quite scary.”

“It’s really scary. Okay, I know I’m a bit excited, but when you think about it, it is the most scary thing we’ve had to do!”

“I know. But do you know what else I’m thinking?”

“What?” asked Kirsty.

“We must go to the old people bungalows. It’s a crime scene, we might find Robbie or James there.”

“I can’t see Mum and Dad letting us go.”

“They’ve known about these attacks and they’ve already let us out in the village. We just say we’re going for a walk, or to the shops for some sweets, or something. We have to Kirsty! This isn’t just for Queen Titania and King Oberon and for Jean, it’s for our world too!”

“I know Rachel. I know.” She came and sat on her friend’s bed and they girls hugged each other tightly for a minute before deciding they needed to get to sleep, they needed to get up early on Saturday and find Robbie and/or James.

 

*

 

The old people’s bungalows were on the edge of the village, ten semi-detached redbrick bungalows built after the war, according to Kirsty’s Gran, who had grown up in the village. They were built in a semi circle around a green, the apex a large, concrete block of sheltered homes built later on, in the 1960s. Rachel rolled her eyes in boredom when Kirsty told her that, and Kirsty got upset. She had done a project on the village last year.

“I got a gold star!” she protested.

“But does it matter now?” Rachel asked.

“I think the older the building the more the magic, for good or bad. Jack Frost seems to mostly imprison fairies or hide their magical things in older buildings. Haven’t you noticed?”

Rachel looked cross. She was, with herself. “No,” she said quietly.

When they arrived, they saw half the green and two bungalows taped of with yellow and blue tape saying ‘police’. Men and women in white coveralls were walking around the garden and bit of green in front of Mrs Steventon’s bungalow. There was a tall, older, man with dark hair with greying, wispy bits at the temples, dressed in a blue one talking to a short woman in a white suit on the drive of the bungalow.

“Oh no,” said Kirsty, pulling Rachel with her behind a tree.

“What?”

“That’s my uncle. If he sees us he’ll tell Mum and she will be so cross. We told her we were going to the shops and the park, remember?” 

“Okay. So what do we do?”

“Let’s sneak around the back, there’s a bridleway that runs along the back of the bungalows that side. We can try and get into the back garden through the hedge. The ones that were broken into first are the next to the ones Mrs Steventon and Mrs White live in.”

“Or lived in,” said Rachel.

“That’s gross,” said Kirsty. “And sad.”

“But a bit exciting. Better than dying of old age anyway,” said Rachel.

Kirsty just gave her friend a look that said ‘not funny’ and led the way back out of the cul de sac to the main road and the entrance to the bridle path.

 

*

 

The middle of the path was rutted and grooved, with dried horses’ hoof prints and large tyre track marks made by a tractor. The sides were overgrown with brambles, hawthorns and nettles.

“I hope you don’t want us to crawl through that,” Rachel said, catching her hair in a bramble branch and scratching her hand on a thorn. She then stumbled and stung her ankle on a nettle. She yelled in shock and pain.

“You okay?”

“I’m fine. Just stinging a bit, that’s all.”

“Good. I don’t think the other side is so overgrown, the side with the gardens, there’s an old man here and he does all the gardens for the old ladies.”

They went on down the path. As soon as they came to the back of the first two bungalows and their gardens Kirsty began to count. She had looked in her Dad’s local paper that morning while Rachel had kept her Mum busy with questions about when her parents would arrive tomorrow. Numbers three and five had been burgled, Mrs White lived at number seven and poor Mrs Steventon at number nine.

“Here,” she said as they got to the first one that had been broken into. The girls peered into the garden through a neat box hedge, carefully avoiding the nettles and thistles the path side of it.

The garden looked neat, with rows of marigolds and a small vegetable patch, some garden furniture laid out on a patio next to the back door. Unfortunately two old people, a man and a woman, were sitting there in the sunshine, drinking tea and talking to a tall, blond, young, man in a suit.

“I think that’s one of my uncle’s detective constables,” Kirsty said miserably.

“We’ll come back later, in case Robbie or James are trapped in that one. Keep your eye out for goblins as well as human police, okay.”

“Sure,” said Kirsty, feeling funny, realising that she might be more scared of her mother and father finding out about her adventures than goblins. She was sure that they wouldn’t believe her if she was forced to explain about working for King Oberon and Queen Titania.

The girls moved onto the next garden. It was separated from the path by a high wooden fence but there were several holes and gaps, it was extremely weathered and had seen better days. It was easy for the girls to peer though the gaps.

This one had a much bigger vegetable patch, a large compost heap near to where they peered making them feel queasy with its rotting vegetable smell. It also had a fishpond and lots and lots of garden gnomes. A few were smashed, the ones near the back door and back of the house, and the kitchen window was boarded up with plywood panels and taped over with police tape. No one appeared to be home. 

“Can we get in?” asked Rachel, leaning over Kirsty’s shoulder.

“I’m not sure. I think we could break this plank, it’s rotten and half broken away anyway. Let’s look at the other two now.”

The third garden belonged to Mrs White, who had been assaulted and was currently in hospital. The garden was mostly lawn, with rambling rose bushes and trellises around the windows, brickwork, and side fences. A piece had been pulled down and the backdoor to the kitchen was nailed up, its handles pulled off. Unless Robbie or James were hidden somewhere among the roses, there was nowhere for anything to be hidden.

“Nothing here,” whispered Rachel. She whispered, because although neither girl could see anyone, they could both hear a policewoman talking over her radio.

“Let’s look into Mrs Steventon’s garden then,” said Kirsty, heading on down the path.

Mrs Steventon’s garden was covered in the same thick brambles, branches, and weeds, of the other side of the path. The girls pulled their cardigan sleeves over their hands to pull apart branches and thorns to look in the garden.

“I thought you said there was an old man who did the gardening?” Rachel hissed.

“There is. He obviously doesn’t like Mrs Steventon. She is... was... really rude and grumpy!”

Inside it was not much better, long grasses as high as the girls’ waists covered the garden, along, no doubt, with hidden thistles and weeds. An apple tree was in one corner, its branches spreading over a quarter of the garden. Police tape went around the kitchen door and kitchen and bathroom windows and two policemen were stood in the garden, one by the door, and one by the gate to the drive and the front of the bungalow.

“We can’t look here,” Rachel said miserably.

“Let’s go back to number five. There was no one at home and the police had obviously finished there.”

“Good plan. Then, if the people in number three have gone in we go there. I don’t fancy going into number nine. We won’t find anything.”

“No, nor do I. Let’s hope we don’t have to. If one of them or both of the last law and order fairies left to find are here they’ll be at the oldest crime scenes, won’t they?”

“I think so. It makes sense. Unless Jack Frost knew that those old ladies would be attacked. And he’s not that bad, is he?” Rachel’s voice had a catch in it, like she hadn’t thought about how bad he was.

“I don’t think so. I think he’s just jealous of the King and Queen and the Fairy Kingdom, and angry he gets left out.”

“But the more he steals things and kidnaps fairies then it’s harder for the King Oberon and Queen Titania to forgive him, isn’t it? Come on, let’s do this,” Rachel said determinedly. This was getting so big and tomorrow she went home, leaving poor Kirsty to do the finding and rescuing alone. And it wasn’t safe for one of them to face the goblins alone, was it?

 

*

 

They searched the gardens of Mrs White with difficulty, avoiding the two police officers, and then numbers five and three much more thoroughly, the old people of number three having gone in. They found nothing. Once they had to duck behind the compost as the tall, blond, very white, male, CID officer and a uniformed, dark-skinned, policewoman came into the garden and looked at the hedgerow between that garden and Mrs White. The man pulled on a pair of gloves and retrieved a piece of blue thread from the branches and put it in a plastic bag the policewoman held open. The girls looked knowingly at each other – evidence left behind by the thief and murderer! But they needed evidence of a different kind, of goblin kind and fairy kind.

“We’ll have to go back to Mrs Steventon’s garden,” Kirsty said.

“I know,” replied Rachel, not sounding too happy about it.

The girls didn’t know where to start and stood for some moments in the wilderness.

“They could be anywhere. Or nowhere.”

“So might a goblin or two,” Rachel said cautiously.

“Strange had been abandoned. Let’s hope that so have Robbie and James.”

“I put some pieces of toast, fruit, and sweets, in a plastic bag this morning when your Mum wasn’t looking. In case they are hungry too.”

“Good plan. But what now?”

Rachel scanned the garden. “Let’s each take a corner and work along the back fence ’til we meet, then we’ll do the sides. We’ll leave the middle to last!”

Both girls worked diligently and systematically. Rachel found a couple of big goblin footprints and the girls were much more wary after that, although as Kirsty said, they didn’t look like fresh prints, probably days old.

Kirsty suddenly thought she heard something, a tiny, heavy, sigh and a small, gruff voice say what sounded like might have been a bad word. She was just about to push back the grasses and weeds, as she saw a piece of metal glinting in the sunlight when she heard,

“What on Earth are you two wee lasses doing here?”

Kirsty stood up and span round. Rachel rushed over to join her and grabbed her by the arm.

“Kirsty. What in hell’s name...? Does your Mam know you’re here?”

“She thinks we’re at the play park,” Kirsty mumbled, looking at her feet.

“We’re looking for fairies!” Rachel blurted out, looking up at the other, very tall, man standing behind Kirsty’s uncle.

Kirsty’s uncle smiled that indulgent, patronising, smile grown-ups seemed to specialise in when hearing the word ‘fairy’. Kirsty glared at her friend, they had promised to keep it all a secret.

“Aren’t you a little old for these games now pet? It’s dangerous you know, there has been a murder. You run along home.”

“It’s more dangerous if we don’t find him,” Rachel said. “We’re looking for the law and order fairies. They hold the balance of law and order in our world. They’ve been kidnapped. If we don’t find them there will be more old ladies murdered! And worse!” Rachel said angrily. Kirsty stared in shock at her friend, while her uncle smiled even more indulgently. The young, tall, blond, man looked at Rachel with attention and curiosity.

“I don’t doubt that’s highly imaginative and mebbe you half-believe it, but you need to let us do the real policing. We will catch the murderer, never you fear. You run along with your clever friend now Kirsty and I’ll say nowt to your Mam.”

“Maybe they are telling the truth sarge. We found some very strange footprints about the garden.”

“Oh no! Not this again. The Chief Inspector does not want to hear anything more about those sodding footprints. And neither do I!”

“There are more things in heaven and earth than you dream about in your philosophy, sergeant.”

“Not more blood... blooming Shakespeare constable!”

The young blond man smirked and then looked at the girls. “You have to be careful, I doubt you are in any danger, but you are contaminating a crime scene. Our scene of crime officers haven’t finished with this garden yet. Do you understand girls?”

Just then the young, dark skinned, uniformed policewoman appeared at the garden gate. “Sarge! The Guv is here and he’s demanding a sit rep.”

Kirsty’s uncle sighed and looked at Kirsty and Rachel, “Go home girls. Or at least, get out of sight. And no more trampling on our crime scene. Get it? Me boss will not be happy to see two kids here and he’ll have me hide, so do your uncle a favour lass, and skedaddle. Just make sure you’re not here when I come back with the Chief Inspector. Okay?” He sighed again and turned, “Coming Lockhart!”

The young detective constable set off after Kirsty’s uncle, but he turned once and winked and put his finger to his lips, smirking again.

Once all adults were safely heading towards the garden Kirsty and Rachel knelt down and Kirsty pulled back the grasses and weeds again while Rachel picked up an old, rusted metal tin, the type that once might have held assorted chocolates, the kind grown-ups gave each other at Christmas. She quickly pried open the lid.

Inside was another male fairy; this one in a half-faint, lying on his side, his wings drooped over him and almost translucent, as if he were fading away. He had dark hair and wore a darkish suit but that was all they could see in the gloom of the overgrown garden in the matt grey of the inside of the tin. 

Suddenly they could hear voices, a loud, posh, voice, moaning about things and insulting Kirsty’s uncle. They then heard her uncle arguing back about the difficulty of the evidence and location.

Quickly Rachel slammed down the lid and rushed towards the gap in the back they had crawled in. Kirsty followed, feeling sick. She was afraid the fairy might be dead of hunger or lack of oxygen, if fairies needed to breathe. But she had heard him sigh. What if he had died while her uncle had been telling them off and mocking them? She couldn’t bear it!

 

*

 

Once both girls had wriggled through the gap and run down the bridleway and all the way to the play park and crawled into the ‘Wendy House’ under the climbing frame they looked at each other, neither daring to speak or reopen the tin, just in case...

It had started to cloud over and spit with rain while they had been in the garden talking to Kirsty’s uncle and now it started to rain properly. All other children and parents began to pack up and leave. They were alone and would not be interrupted by curious eyes of younger children nor told off by adults concerned they were too big for the ‘Wendy house’.

“We have to see,” Rachel said finally.

“Get out the food you packed! Hopefully he is just hungry. Like Strange was.”

“You found Strange!” said a little voice. “I didn’t even know he was missing!”

“You’re alive. Thank goodness!” Kirsty ripped off the tin lid and Rachel hurriedly fumbled with her bag to retrieve the emergency food supplies she had packed in case the goblins had abandoned Robbie and James as they had Strange.

“Barely. I was trying to sleep so I didn’t feel so hungry or need so much air. It was hard to sleep being jolted about rattling about in that tin like a bean in a maraca! What’s this about Strange?”

“Jack Frost kidnapped the retired fairy police too,” explained Rachel.

“But don’t worry, we’ve already found Morse and Max as well as Strange,” reassured Kirsty.

“Good. I take it you are Kirsty Tate and Rachel Walker. I had a feeling their Majesties would commission you. I was getting a bit worried about you both, mind, it’s not puppies or cake we’re talking about here. And when that poor wee lady was killed last night... I’m a witness! How on earth are we going to get the adult human police to listen to me.”

“You saw him?” Rachel asked, amazed.

“Not with my eyes, no, I was in the tin. But I heard them, and the night before, which is why last night I used a bit of magic, a sort of seeing-eye, sending my vision out of the tin. I can describe them.”

“How will we get a grown up to listen?” asked Kirsty.

“And isn’t it against the laws of fairy magic, to show yourself to a grown-up?” asked Rachel, worried.

“Yes. Mostly. Adult humans have to been gifted and vetted for us to work with them. Unless they’re still in touch with their inner child – sometimes grown-ups stay small inside, but that’s usually for bad reasons. We have to be kind to them and stay away, as other grown ups will call them crazy. But don’t worry girls, I’ll think about it when I’m not so faint. I heard one of you say something about food?”

Rachel quickly produced the bag with the scraps she had taken from Mrs Tate’s kitchen and her breakfast plate.

The fairy quickly revived as he ate the toast, fruit, and sweets, and drank some water from the thimble Rachel had also thought to pack along with a bottle of mineral water. He had been so wan and pale, his dark hair plastered to his face, and his wings, that had been drooped and translucent, were now raised and brightened. His hair now had fluffed up to a smooth, dark, short cut, forward facing, that had a side parting over his forehead. His face now grew pink and red; he lost his pallor with every mouthful of food and every sip of water. 

His wings were large and were striped; the girls had never seen striped wings before, nor had they seen wings of only black and white. The white shimmered and sparkled with magic. They were very striking and boyish, the girls supposed, rather than pretty and girly like all the fairies they had met before this latest adventure Superintendent Jean had sent them on. They didn’t even know who he was, they realised.

“Are you James or Robbie?” asked Rachel.

“James!!!” he cried, startled. “You’ve not found James! I was hoping I was the last!”

“So, you’re not James?” clarified Rachel.

“No. I’m Robbie. But... James? What if they’ve left him too with no food? Lad’s as skinny as a rake and always hungry. We have to find him!”

Rachel and Kirsty had not seen such concern on any other fairy in the same way for another, not even with Jean for her best friend or her father on this latest adventure.

“What about finding a way to tell our police about Mrs Steventon’s murderer?” asked Kirsty.

“And don’t you need to get back to King Oberon, Queen Titania and Chief Superintendent Jean?” Rachel asked at almost the same time.

“Of course I do, but James is more important right now. They can wait, both their Majesties and your human police. James is clever, he’ll figure out a way to tell the human police and it’ll be better if we both return home together. What have you done already? Have you already tried to find my James at all?”


	8. James the Detective Sergeant fairy

Rachel and Kirsty looked at the worried fairy glaring up at them, he had gone almost as pale as he was before he’d eaten they food they’d brought. They looked at each other.

“Jean said it was about reflections of the nature of things, and Laura and Strange told us to look for balance, and Morse explained to look for all the fairies in places that reflect and balance them, their likes and things,” Rachel explained.

“So we looked in the big city, at all the rowing clubs, and up and down the river,” continued Kirsty.

“We even asked Kirsty’s Mum to take us to the big music shop on The Broad.”

“But no luck,” concluded Kirsty sadly.

“You did well girls, James does love to row and he plays the guitar and piano beautifully. If he’d have been a lass he would probably have graduated from school as a Music Fairy. What about here? In your village?”

“We were going to go to the music shop and rowing club here, today, but then we saw on the news about the murder, so we thought a crime scene was an even more likely place,” Rachel said, defensively.

“We thought we might find both of you together.”

“Oh no,” Robbie said sadly, shaking his head, “those goblins are wicked. They took great pleasure in separating us. They knew about the wedding, you see.”

“What wedding?” the girls asked together.

“Ours.”

The girls looked down at the angry older fairy. They had seen on the news that gay people could now get married. They hadn’t thought about fairies getting married at all, straight or gay! But that was probably because most of the fairies they’d met were girls who seemed only a few years older than them, but since they were magical they might have been hundreds of years old, really.

Robbie obviously mistook their looks of confusion, as he snapped, “James and I, we were supposed to be married this Saturday.”

Kirsty and Rachel glanced at each other before looking down again; guessing at how awful the little male fairy must be feeling. No wonder to Robbie nothing else mattered other than finding James.

“That’s so sad!” Kirsty said.

“Then we need to find him!” Rachel said firmly. “But where shall we try? Rowing club or music shop? And what do we do if he’s not at either!”

“Let’s not think about that until it happens!” Robbie said, flying up out of the Wendy House. Leaving the biscuit tin behind, the girls climbed out and stood up. The rain was now falling in a fine mist that wetted them right through and made everything a foggy blur. There was not one other person left in the park.

Kirsty looked at her watch. “Look at the time!” she wailed. “My Mum will be getting worried, and if she does she might phone my uncle and he’ll tell her he saw us and what we said!”

Rachel grabbed Kirsty’s wrist and looked at her watch too, “Never mind that, the music shop will be closing soon, and then it won’t open until Monday, after I’ve gone home!”

“It’ll be quicker if we fly then,” Robbie said decisively, and with a smooth action, he pulled out his wand from inside a little brown leather holster he wore under his jacket and with a flick of a wrist, the girls were showered in sparkling little footballs and cricket balls, and felt themselves yet again shrink down to fairy size, their wings growing as they did so. As soon as they were both fairy sized, the girls took to the air, with Kirsty leading the way, the three of them flew to the music shop on the village’s little High Street.

 

*

 

The shop was in-between the bakery and a charity shop for the local hospice, with an old-fashioned front with a smallish bay window displaying guitars and violins and sheet music. They flew in the door as it opened with a jingle of the bell that hung over the top of the door. Two teenaged boys in baggy jeans worn too low and beanies balanced precariously on the back of their floppy hair cuts were going into the shop, and they flew in right over the boys’ heads, unnoticed. Robbie led them to the back of the shop and pointed to the floor in the corner, tucked behind an upright piano and a double bass,

“It’s be quicker if you’re full sized,” he said. “I’ll fly around the top shelves you can’t see, you girls take a side of the shop each,” and with that he waved his wand and the girls felt themselves grow back to their normal size, quickly flying down to the dirty brown carpet before they lost their wings.

The shop was tiny, over-crowded, and dimly lit. Only the owner, a man with straggling, thinning on top, long, grey, hair and a neatly trimmed goatee beard and the two skater boys were in the shop. He looked up, startled, when the girls emerged from behind the instruments.

“Oh!” Kirsty said, trying not to look as startled as he. She glanced at her friend.

“I came to get some new viola strings,” Rachel said, sliding her hand into her jeans pocket and fingering the little money left over from the spending money her Mum had given her for half-term.

Kirsty realised Rachel’s panic and pulled out the three five pound notes they had earned at the golf course from her own pocket. “My treat, remember Rachel, and I need a new guitar pick. I’ll just look over here...” She wandered to the opposite side of the shop to the counter, to a wall of guitars of all types, glancing up at Robbie as he was systematically circling the shop shelves and displays. On the floor was a big box of reduced sheet music and another, smaller one, of brightly coloured plectrums. As she squatted she heard Rachel ask if she might look around at the lovely instruments and the man turned back to the two skater boys and began to talk about some band she hadn’t heard of.

Rachel took the other side of the shop, displaying few second hand classical instruments and a notice board full of handwritten notes advertising tutors and classes and requests for a drummer or a singer, plus a big County Music sign about free classes and opportunities through school to join a brass band and a musical theatre group. Various strings for all sorts of instruments in plastic packets were scattered about shelves, as were various brass and wind accoutrements, plus a pizza box and sandwich wrappers on the floor, a jam jar with pens and drumsticks and another with half dead bluebells and tiny white flowers her Mum called ‘shirt buttons’ that grew in the woods about the same time as the bluebells. She gasped, clamping her hand on her mouth, as she saw another jar, this one slightly bigger, an old coffee jar, with a screw lid, lying on its side behind a stack of dusty music sheets. She looked up, hurriedly, a bit panicked, but the shop owner was busy lifting down a black electric guitar for the boy in the grey beanie.

Kirsty saw her look and came over, looking up at Robbie as she did so, pointing at Rachel. She had a pink pick in her hand, for the excuse,

“Do you like this one?” she asked as she came up to Rachel, but it turned out they needed no distraction. The boy sat down on a stool the owner gave him and was plucking out a gentle rift, far mellower than the girls would have expected. His friend began to sing in a beautiful baritone.

“Talented kids,” Robbie said as he fluttered down to land on the shelf in front of Rachel. Kirsty came up and stood next to her. Rachel pointed at the coffee jar at the back, pressed to the wall, almost completely hidden by shadow. The slightest of movement and colour had caught Rachel’s eye.

The three of them looked into the grey shadows. Kirsty gasped and Robbie grinned as they saw the littlest of a flutter of purple.

“Are they wings?” Rachel whispered.

Robbie stepped forward, stumbling then flying over the papers and packets of strings and dust, landing gracefully down in front of the coffee jar. He put his hand on it and knocked on the glass with his tiny fist.

“Girls,” he called, sounding worried.

“Yes?” Kirsty whispered back, while Rachel gave a glance to the teenagers and the shopkeeper. They were discussing chords and lyrics and paid the girls no attention.

“Can you open the top, he seems to be unconscious. I can’t wake him and I can’t shift the lid, even with magic. Jack Frost must have cast a sealing spell!”

Rachel reached up, standing on tiptoe and picked it up. She gasped as she bought the jar into the light. James had short golden hair and the most beautiful lilac wings, which were fluttering slightly, as he slept. At last she hoped he was asleep. In his arms he hugged a tiny acoustic guitar of honey blond wood.

Robbie flew around it frantically, still banging on the glass, calling out, “James, James!”

Kirsty carefully took the jar from Rachel and twisted the lid. It came away easily to her, but she supposed such spells had no effect on a human. As soon as the lid was off, Robbie flew in and touched James face, and shook his shoulder,

“James! James! Wake up!”

Kirsty looked at Rachel, biting her lip with worry. “We have to get out of here before they finish their music talks,” she said.

Rachel nodded, “Quick, put the jar in my bag,” she said, opening it. Kirsty slid the jar with both fairies inside very carefully; squashing the snacks Rachel had packed that morning, in case they found a fairy that, like Strange, had not been fed by goblins for days. It had been a good job, too, as poor Robbie had been famished.

Rachel closed the bag and handed Kirsty the packet of viola strings. “You said you’d treat me,” she said, “I’ll wait by the door.”

Hurriedly, Kirsty went to the counter. The owner looked up from talking to the two boys, “Have you chosen love?”

“I’d like this one, please, and the strings are for my friend.”

“Violin?” asked the boy in the grey beanie.

“Viola,” Rachel called from the door.

“And you play the guitar?”

Kirsty nodded, holding out the money to the man.

“Shame you’re both so little, we could make a band together.”

Kirsty felt herself blush and also felt, rather than saw, her best friend, scowl at her.

“I don’t mean to be rude,” Rachel called, “but my friend’s Mum wanted us back ages ago.”

“Of course, off you pop,” the show owner said, giving Kirsty the pink guitar pick and viola strings in a candy striped paper bag, along with her change. She mumbled her thanks, and with a little glance to the teenagers, rushed to the door that Rachel held open. It shut behind them with a clang. 

Robbie lifted the bag flap and flew out. “He’s stirring a little. If you could put some of that water in the thimble for me...” he looked sick with worry. “I don’t think he’s eaten since we’ve were taken out of the station by that - Jack Frost’s henchmen!”

“We must get somewhere private, and quickly then,” Kirsty said firmly.

“I can’t make you wee, we’ll never manage the jar, and I’m not flying carrying the lad over my shoulder, I tried that once, did me back in for days. No fairy magic would fix it, laid up, bored out of my brains...”

Kirsty and Rachel looked at the older male fairy curiously.

“What? I’m babbling, I know, but I’m worried...”

“In here,” Rachel said, seeing the bakery was still open. It was also a little teashop.

They went in, but the owner, a friend of Kirsty’s mother, came out from the back,

“There you are Kirsty, I’ve just had your Mum on the phone, wondering if you were here. She said you’ve been gone all day, and what with that torrential rain...”

“We got caught in it, and had to sit in the Wendy House under the climbing frame at the park. We just made a dash here Mrs Gregg. Can we have two lemonades and two iced buns please?”

“Right you are dear. But I’ll just let your Mum know you’re safe, okay. Sit yourself down.”

The girls rushed over to the darkest, furthest corner of the cafe section and, as soon as Mrs Gregg put down two glasses of home-made lemonade and two plates with pink, sticky, iced buns and left them to go out back, carefully Rachel pulled out the coffee jar, while Robbie fluttered around her head, anxiously. She laid it carefully on to the red and white gingham checked tablecloth, gently taking of the lid. Robbie immediately crawled inside and gently stroked James’ face, then not so gently, shook his shoulder,

“James! James! Wake up! Are you alright? Tell me you’re alright?”

On the third shake of his shoulders, James’s eyelids fluttered open, “Is there an earthquake? Oh! Robbie! Did they put you in here? Am I dreaming?”

He sat up and shook his head and his wings, stretching his arms above his head. “I feel so dizzy. And hungry.”

“You’re dizzy because you’re hungry. Come out. The girls have some food.”

“Out?” James still sounded half asleep and mystified. But he followed Robbie out of the jar, standing up and stretching, before looking up at the two human girls, looking down at him and his fiancé. He was very tall and thin, dressed in a pale grey suit with a lavender shirt and dark purple skinny tie and two-tone pointed black and brown shoes.

“Thank you so much. You must be Rachel and Kirsty who have so wonderfully assisted their Majesties and the girls.” He frowned and looked worried, biting at his lip, then bringing his fingers to his mouth and biting at the side of his thumbnail. Rachel noticed that he wasn’t quite so beautiful as she first had thought, his face was too long, and his ears stuck out. But his wings, now out of the distorting glass jar, were a beautiful iridescent pale purple, catching the fading evening light as it shone through the bakery window. “But the station... everyone else...?” James asked, looking at the girls, then at Robbie.

Robbie put his hand on James’ arm. There were instant sparkles that leapt from both fairies, white, purple and pink surrounding them for a moment. “You’re the last one pet. The girls have found the station and everyone else, including the retired officers. Jack Frost took them from the retirement home.”

“The...” James glanced at the girls. “Wicked, nasty... Are they okay?”

Robbie looked at the girls, who nodded. Kirsty carefully broke a corner off her iced bun and held it gently in the tips of her forefinger and thumb to James, who took it gratefully, sitting down. Rachel fetched the thimble from her bag and poured a measure of lemonade and gave it to him.

“We can go home,” he said after a while of eating and drinking. “The girls must come too, their Majesties will have a reward, and they must come to our...” he stopped himself and frowned. “How long have I been a prisoner in that jar? How long have I been left? I lost track of time some days ago. When I went to sleep I was so hungry I... have we missed it Robbie?”

“It is Saturday today,” Kirsty told the two fairies.

“Yes, we have,” Robbie sighed, sitting down next to James, and putting his arm around him. Again the girls were thrilled to see sparkles. They smiled at each other, before looking back at the two police fairies more seriously. It must be so upsetting to realise you have missed your wedding by being held captive by Jack Frost’s goblins for days!

“I hate Jack Frost,” he huffed angrily.

Robbie nodded, and the two fairies sat there a while, hugging each other tightly. Then James stood up and went back to the jam jar.

“James, what the...?”

“My guitar,” James said sadly, coming back out of the jar holding his guitar in both hands – the neck was snapped. “The goblins. They broke it. I hate them too,” he muttered sadly.

“The... wicked...!” Robbie leapt into the air and flew to James, hugging him tightly again. The girls were thrilled to see all the sparkles that surrounded them, blue this time, as well as white, purple and pink. “We’ll get a you new one from Ellie.”

They sat back down again, holding hands while James picked up another piece of bun. Rachel poured him another thimble of lemonade. Robbie fiddled with James’ hand a while, before saying firmly,

“James, love, it’s not our wedding that’s the worst casualty. Whilst we CID fairies were still missing, there were more violent crimes here, with humans, than usual. Those goblins stuck me in a tin and buried me in a garden where a couple of thugs broke into the bungalow and killed a poor little old lady. I sent out my seeing eye, they were coming back every day to rob and harm another elderly person. How can we get the police to listen to us, or at least, two little human girls? Don’t you fret about our wedding; we can do that any day. Put your big brain to solving that!” Then Robbie moved so fast, grasping hold of James and they flew quickly up to the ceiling, a flurry of black and white and lilac shimmering wings.

“I don’t want to hurry you girls,” Mrs Gregg said, coming up to their table with a tray and a cloth, “but I need to close now, and your Mum really is expecting you back, Kirsty.”

Kirsty stood up, nodding, while Rachel gathered up their belongings into the bag, looking up at the fairies. While Kirsty thanked Mrs Gregg and followed her to the till to pay, Rachel held open the flap of the bag and the two police fairies flew in, James still too tired and weak to fly far.


	9. Getting evidence to the human police and going home

“You missed your Mum, Rachel,” Kirsty’s Mum said as they walked up the garden path, not noticing the two male fairies dressed in suits fly up into the air out of Rachel’s’ bag. “And we’ve been so worried about you. It was very naughty to go off like that. I’ve had your uncle on the phone too. Now come in, both of you, and straight up to the bathroom, shower and bed for both of you.”

“I’m sorry Mum,” Kirsty sad, shame-faced and embarrassed, not knowing what to say. Her Mum wasn’t so much angry with her, as relieved she was okay and disappointed in her. The disappointment face always made Kirsty feel much worse than the angry one.

“I’m sorry too Mrs Tate,” Rachel added. “We forgot the time. It was my fault, I want to be a detective when I grow up, I just wanted to see what a real crime scene looked like.”

“Yes, well, I suppose you couldn’t have come to any harm, with all those policemen about. Get up those stairs, both of you, you’re both covered in mud and grass and brambles and goodness knows what else. Leave your clothes out Rachel, I’ll wash, dry, and press them. I can’t send you home tomorrow with your things in such a state.”

“Thank you Mrs Tate. And we really are sorry.”

“Get on with you. I’ll bring you some sandwiches and cake upstairs once you’re in your pyjamas as long as you promise to brush your teeth. You can have another bedroom picnic.”

“Why Mum?”

“Your uncle is so busy I said I’d give him and one of his constables something to eat. That Inspector of his never gives him enough time to grab anything to eat half the time.”

Kirsty smiled and rushed up the stairs, keen to be ready when he came, she liked her uncle and hardly ever got to see him. Rachel rushed up the stairs too, but that was to open the bedroom window and let in Robbie and James.

“Kirsty’s uncle is coming to tea – he’s a policemen. Is there anyway we can make him believe us or see you?” she puffed, as the two police fairies flew into Kirsty’s bedroom.

 

*

 

With Robbie’s encouragement, the girls first took their pyjamas to the bathroom and got ready for bed, as told by Kirsty’s mother. While they did so the two police fairies sat in Kirsty’s old doll’s house, in the tiny pretend living room on the wooden sofa, and thought about how they would get Robbie’s eyewitness account to the police and believed.

After the girls came back in Mrs Tate came up with a tray with hot chocolate, sandwiches, fruit, and biscuits, and with a reminder to brush their teeth again, rushed downstairs to take her steak and kidney pie out of the oven. Once she had gone, the fairies came and joined the girls and the tea tray on the Kirsty’s bed.

“I can only think of three options,” James began, after Rachel had cut the fairies tiny pieces of their sandwiches and poured a little of their hot chocolate into thimbles for them, and Kirsty had asked if there was anyway they could tell her uncle, somehow, alone, while he was here. Both Rachel and Robbie had scoffed at the idea that such a down to earth, practical, adult policeman would believe either girl, let alone be able to see Robbie himself.

“What are they?” Kirsty asked.

“And how practical are they?” Robbie asked.

“Well,” James was sat crossed legged on the leg of one of Kirsty’s favourite teddy bears. He checked off his ideas on his fingers as he spoke, “there are two that may work, but perhaps not, due to the girls age, and one that will need a lot more magic than I think we have alone.”

“We could always ask Jean, I suppose,” Robbie said, nodding.

“We could need their Majesties, it depends on how stubborn the adults are – some can still believe and see, as you know.”

“True. But not that sergeant, and certainly not the chief inspector, nor many of the others I could sense when I was buried in that biscuit tin... speaking of which...?”

“Help yourself,” Kirsty said, snapping the chocolate digestive into quarters.

“Firstly, we could use the crime stoppers programme. Do either of you girls have access to the Internet?”

Both girls shook their heads fiercely. “We’re too young!” Kirsty said. “We might be allowed on my Mum’s PC sometimes, but only with supervision.”

“Well, there are girls at my school that have smart phones and tablets already, but my Mum would never let me, she wouldn’t know what I was seeing,” Rachel added.

“Quite right too,” Robbie said. “How would you be able to help us, to see us even, if you lost your childhood like that? James, what were you thinking?”

“About the girls sneaking downstairs and logging on while the grown ups are eating.”

“I couldn’t do that!” Kirsty said, shocked.

“I would never ask any child to break a parent’s rule normally,” James said hastily, “but to email anonymously to the police, describing what Robbie saw, might give them a lead without having to interview anyone, as long as they could tie up other evidence that linked back.”

“They were not bright, those boys, even though they had gloves. They must have left some DNA somewhere, I’m sure,” Robbie said. “But no James, you can’t have the wee lasses doing that. Besides, they’d probably check the IP and come back to Mr and Mrs Tate.”

James nodded, “Agreed. But could one of the girls sound old enough to be taken seriously if they phoned the crime stoppers number tomorrow from an old-fashioned phone box? You’d have to tell them exactly what to say, of course. Or would you be able to get your voice to be heard by an adult through the phone yourself?”

Kirsty and Rachel looked at each other. “I don’t think either of us could make ourselves sound like a teenager, let alone a grown up,” Rachel said sadly.

“No, I don’t think so,” Kirsty agreed sadly. “I wish we could. Could you be heard?”

“We could try, but without knowing who was at the other end...” Robbie shrugged, “Besides, fairy glamour and human science don’t often mix, my voice might not be carried at all through them wires and satellite links and things, and the call centre officer would hear a dead line.”

James sighed and held up a third finger, “Okay. Then we must use our glamour to convince Mr and Mrs Tate that is was fine for you girls to be out at night, that night, and tell Kirsty’s uncle what Robbie saw as if you saw it.”

“Aye, that might work, with a huge amount of back-up, the two of us wouldn’t be able to form such a powerful glamour alone, but then, the girls might end up in court as witnesses and we can’t ask them to perjure themselves...”

“Perjure?” asked Rachel.

“Lie under oath in court. It’s a very bad thing to do,” James answered.

Just then the two girls and the two fairies fell silent. They could hear someone at the door, a slight knocking and scuffling, as if someone had been standing outside for a while and had just stumbled and hit the door. Putting his fingers to his lips, Robbie flew up from the bed and went to the door, pulling out his wand as he did so, showering himself with black, white, and silver sparkles as he got to the door so he could fly through it.

 

*

The young constable had only been in CID a matter of months. This had been his first murder. He took stick behind the Chief Inspector’s back for being a graduate fast track entry boy, and was the butt of every joke, and no-one had listened to his conviction that something hadn’t been quite right with these crimes, that there were strange footprints – not human, not animal, but all he got was a laughter and ridicule and comments on his theology degree or sung the theme tune of X-Files or Doctor Who, not that he had suggested aliens! Mind you, fairies had not been uppermost in his mind, either, not until he had listened to his sarge’s niece and friend in th garden, and then he hadn’t even half believed them. An afternoon of stern talking to and teasing from his the Chief Inspector and his colleagues had soon knocked any silly thoughts of fairies clean out his head, and yet, here, on his way back to the stairs from the bathroom he couldn’t help overhearing the girls’ conversations. He had been alarmed, at first, as he heard two adult men’s voices coming from the girls room, and he didn’t think they had a TV in there, besides, the girls were talking to these strange men, and being answered, and he had been concerned they were talking to someone on the phone on loud speaker, some bad men tricking them, he had been worried for their safely – at least, that was what he told himself when he pressed his ear to his boss’ nieces’ bedroom door, praying no one came up stairs and discovered him. The conversation had become more intriguing, more amazing, more compelling the more he listened. Attempting to suppress a sneeze he had stumbled by the door, his hand flailing and scratching and knocking the doorframe and then...

Then he sneezed! As he opened his eyes he saw the maddest thing! He shook his head and blinked a few times, then settled for rubbing his eyes.

It was no good. The tiniest of men in a scruffy suit and tie, with black and white striped wings beating furiously to become almost a blur of grey was hovering in front of his face, glaring angrily at him.

“Can you see me?” the tiny man... fairy!... demanded.

The young police officer nodded dumbly.

“Hear me too then?” the fairy seemed very angry. “What are you, some kind of new age hippie weirdo? Or just a big child?”

“I’m a Catholic!” he replied indignantly, before he thought about it, although he remembered to keep his voice down. He wouldn’t want the sergeant, and his sergeant’s sister and brother in law, hearing him. If he told them what he saw they’d have him sectioned!

“Not fully grown up then,” the fairy sighed sadly, and he reached into his jacket to a tiny holster, rather like an American cop had.

The young man at first ridiculously was afraid the fairy was reaching for a tiny gun, but then realised he was reaching for a wand, that he was going to be enchanted, probably have his memory wiped by magic. He held up his hand quickly, “Wait!” he pleaded.

“What? Why?” He sounded very annoyed, but he withdrew his hand and folded his arms, glaring at the young human adult.

“You’re going to make me forget. Don’t do that, no one would believe me; they’d put me in a mental hospital. It happened to Arthur Conan Doyle’s father, you know?”

“Who?”

“The man who wrote Sherlock Holmes? Have you heard of Sherlock Holmes? You’re a fairy policeman, of course you have. Are you the same as muses? Do you influence crime fiction too? No, never mind. Please, let me take your witness statement. I can use that to find something, some shred of forensic or connection to previous crimes and find a suspect and never mention you...” he dropped his voice and peered at the fairy, “please,” he begged. “Don’t make me forget.”

The fairy seemed to consider it, and then nodded slowly, “Alright, we’ll trust you. Someone needs to know what I saw the night the old lady was killed.” He pointed to the door, which the young policeman opened and the fairy flew through first, the young man following shyly.

 

*

Kirsty and Rachel were shocked to see the young constable that had arrived with Kirsty’s uncle walk into her bedroom; it was such a strange and unlikely thing to happen. They were sure Kirsty’s mum and dad and uncle wouldn’t have liked it. James flew up in front of the girls protectively just as they gasped and stood up.

Robbie flew in by the man’s head, quickly fluttering up to James and the girls. “It’s alright, he can see us. He heard our discussion. He’s going to take my statement.”

The man, who was very tall, seemed to fill up the entire girls’ bedroom, or at least its height, looked around awkwardly at the room, the bed and camp bed, the white and pink furniture, the posters of fairies and ponies and pop stars, the bookcase with toys as well as books arranged on them, the large white wooden dolls house. He looked as uncomfortable as the girls. “Sorry,” he mumbled, looking down and spreading his hands. Then he sat down, on the floor, crossed legged. He seemed all legs, like a two legged daddy long legs! He seemed much smaller and less looming and threatening there on the floor. Robbie and James nodded approvingly.

The policeman fished out his black notebook from his pocket with a short purple pencil. “Right,” he said, “let’s get this done as quickly as possible before the sarge notices I’ve been gone a long time.”

Robbie nodded, and fluttered down to sit on the man’s left knee as he balanced the notebook on his right one, ready to write what he was told. Robbie gave his account quickly and concisely, leaving nothing out. The man took it all down without comment, not surprised, as he had gathered this was some kind of police fairy. It was comforting, in a way, to know magic existed in a way he hadn’t believed since he was a small child, and that as well as saints and angels, there were fairies out there protecting the police.

He soon realised that he would need Robbie to look at a collection of photos on the police computer back at the station, and if he couldn’t find whom he had seen, then sort out a photo fit ID to use.

James came up with the plan – the young officer would tell his sergeant that he had an received an email forwarded from an anonymous caller that had left a couple of descriptions of young men and he was going back to the station to verify it and see if he could chase the information. Robbie would go with him. In the meantime, James would go back to the Fairy Kingdom and let their Majesties and Jean know that all was well, everyone was recovered.

Kirsty and Rachel, sitting close together, shoulders and arms pressed together, sat on Kirsty’s bed, watching it all, amazed to watch an adult talk to a fairy, and like with Jean, amazed to see how professional and like real human police these older fairies could be, making them feel as much in awe as King Oberon and Queen Titania did.

“Of course,” James said, as he pirouetted in the air, suddenly seeming as young as the girls they usually met, and Julie and Gurdip, whom they had met a week ago now, his purple wings giving off showers of lilac glitter and sparkles as he did so, “You must come back with me, too. The King and Queen will want to, as always, thank you, and I am sure Jean and all of at the station will want to, too.”

The girls grinned at each other, then James then looked down at them and smiled too. Just as the beginning of the adventure, when they had met Jean on that rainy day a week ago, they were going to the court of the King and Queen of the Fairy Kingdom in their nightwear! They shrugged and smiled at each other again.

As soon as the young detective constable had left, with Robbie on his shoulder, invisible to the other adults downstairs, James pulled out his wand – just like Robbie’s, it was keep in a shoulder holster under his jacket – and showered them with purple and lilac and lavender sparkles of crotchets and quavers, because, yes, if he had been a girl, he would have been a music fairy, just as Robbie had said.

 

*

 

In no time at all, the girls were standing in the gardens of the Fairy Palace. Queen Titania and King Oberon came out to meet them, accompanied by Jean.

“James. We are so relieved to see you,” Queen Titania said.

James bowed politely to them, “Your Majesties. Ma’am,” he said formally, turning to Jean, who demanded, 

“Where is Robbie.”

“I’m afraid he is with an adult human policeman. He witnessed a murder and an assault and is helping describe what he saw.” He turned back to the King and Queen. “I know we are not supposed to, but the young man could see him, and had overheard us talking with Kirsty and Rachel.”

“If he enchants the man afterwards, and it leads to the arrest of these wicked human murderers, then we shall over-look this bending of the rules,” Titania said graciously.

Rachel bit her lip, she saw James cross his fingers behind his back. Robbie had made a deal with the policeman, promising him he could keep his memory of the fairies.

Oberon chuckled, “You can tell he was trained by Morse.” He turned to Rachel and Kirsty. “And girls, we are once again in you debt, and this commission was perhaps the biggest and most dangerous we have ever had to ask of you.”

“Yes girls. We are so grateful to you,” Titania said, holding out her hands and taking one of each girl’s in one hand and squeezing.

“I am extremely thankful too,” Jean said, stepping forward, “And I would like to present you each with a gift, from all of us at the station.”

Titania let go of each girl’s hand and stood next to the Chief Superintendent of all the Fairies as Jean presented a velvet cushion, on which rested two charm bracelets. The Queen gave one first to Kirsty, the other to Rachel, fastening them on their right wrists.

“There is a charm to remember each of us,” Jean explained.

Both girls fiddled with their silver bracelets, looking at each in turn, remembering to thank Jean, and the King and Queen. There was a tiny scalpel and bow tie for Laura and Max, and minute gold club and beer mug for Strange and Morse, and a football and guitar for Robbie and James, then, together in a little bunch on one loop, a tiny silver pair of handcuffs, along with a truncheon, radio and little stab vest to remind the girls the other fairy officers they had met; Julie, Gurdip, Alan and Hooper, and then finally a tiny house that represented the police station to remember Jean and their first adventure with the fairy police.

As the girls were admiring their bracelets and checking that each had the same charms, Robbie arrived, fluttering down on the lawn of the Palace Gardens. Forgetting himself, James rushed to Robbie and they hugged each other tightly and kissed, flying up to the air and spinning as they kissed. Sparkles and glitter surrounded them as they did so.

Then they remembered themselves and separated and flew back down to the grass, Robbie bowing deeply and respectfully to King Oberon and Queen Titania before nodding to Jean.

“You Majesties. Ma’am. I was able to assist the human police without leaving a trace of magic. I was able to identify both perpetrators on the computer, and the young officer was able to get a match from one fingerprint he found on a gatepost and a DNA match from some strands of hair and demin torn of a fence.”

“And you removed his memory,” Titania said coolly

Robbie looked uncomfortable and fiddled with his ear and coughed, “No, not as such, no Your Majesty. I promised, you see. He did point out no one would believe him so would not say a word. He had a sad, lonely aura, a bright young man who seemed so young at heart struggling to make the world think he was a grown up. It gave him peace of mind to let him believe again in fairies. I know this goes against protocol but I stand by my decisions.”

As Robbie spoke James came to stand next to him and stood there, shoulder-to-shoulder, pressing close, showing his support.

Also as he spoke, Jean began to look crosser and crosser.

Titania and Oberon looked at each other, and Oberon spoke, quietening whatever Jean was about to say, “Of course rules can be broken from time to time, when there is need. It is only a guidance, for our own protection. Plenty of adults believe in us, although they give us so many powers we don’t have or worship us, which is quite embarrassing. It sounds like this young human needed comfort and you gave it to him. We cannot argue with that.”

“And you and James have our sympathies and commiserations,” went on Queen Titania, as her husband finished speaking. “You were due to be married this afternoon.”

James looked down sadly, and Robbie caught his hand in his and squeezed tightly. “Yes we were, Your Majesties,” he said sadly.

“We have spoken to your children Robbie, and to your friend and old mentor, Morse, as well as the Wedding Fairies.” Titania continued, smiling at them, “And we have agreed that we shall hold your marriage ceremony and the following celebrations and party, here, in the Palace, next Saturday.”

Robbie and James looked at each other, and grinned widely. Rachel and Kirsty smiled too, and before she could think, Rachel blurted out,

“Oh, please! Could we come! We’ve never been to a fairy wedding before, even though we met some of the Wedding Fairies!”

“We even met the Royal Wedding Fairy,” Kirsty added. “Please, it would mean so much. Robbie and James were so nice, and they were so ill when we found them!”

“What was this?” Jean demanded.

“I’ll explain later. It’ll be in my report,” Robbie said dismissively, and with James nodding, said, “Of course you young lasses can come. If it wasn’t for you we’d still be trapped on Earth!”

“We would be honoured,” James added.

Titania smiled again. “Then it is settled. Both of you will come here next Saturday after you have had your lunches at home. That being the case, I must re-stock your lockets.”

As she spoke, a young attendant fairy from her palace flew across the grass carrying a large glass bottle. It was full of fairy dust. She gave it to the Queen, who, as each girl stepped forward and opened her locket that they had been given with their first adventure, so long ago on Rainspell Island, and had it filled to the brim.

“And now it is time for you to go,” said Titania, showering them with glittering magic from her royal want.

 

*

 

The following morning Mr and Mrs Walker arrived after breakfast. The girls hugged each other goodbye, each smiling a secret smile, for they would not have to wait for the next school holidays, but would see each other back in the Fairy Kingdom in six days. They were looking forward to it so much.

 

The End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can so see the fairy Robbie pulling silly faces at all the other adults in the room, knowing that they would never being able to see him, as he sits on the young constable's shoulder - the young DC who's name might also be James ;)


	10. Jack Frost’s spell:

To cause mischief and discontent  
To hide the police is my intent  
I shall cast the station far away  
Hid in the human realm they shall stay!

Though fairies may search high and low  
They’ll never find the cops hid below  
Though fairies may cast spells galore  
Chaos and crime shall reign forever more!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The books often begin with a spell that the wicked Jack Frost (who looks so unlike the lovely one from the Rise of the Guardians as is possible!) casts - I put it here, at the end, as it would confuse at the beginning :)

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone is familiar with these books or wants to do a bit of research and fancies illustrating this, they are more than welcome to do so :)


End file.
